


Distracting Additions

by uhmwhat



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Frost is still alive, How did Addison Montgomery end up in this?, Humor, Light Angst, Mentions of Ian and Garrett, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Nina exists just not at BPD, Piercings, Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23598259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhmwhat/pseuds/uhmwhat
Summary: Maura's disclosure to Jane becomes the catalyst that pushes them over the line of friendship and into something they've yearned to have.
Relationships: Maura Isles & Jane Rizzoli, Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli
Comments: 77
Kudos: 304





	1. Un

**Author's Note:**

> It's different, but hopefully not unappealing. She still wears Chanel and casually has two Hermès scarves in her Birken for random usage in an Aston Martin. The article is real. Also, English is hard.

* * *

Amélie Saunders was a caucasian brown haired, brown eyed woman who once stood at 162.56 centimeters. She was an atypical accountant. From the crisp, long-sleeve white button-down with a pocket protector she was found in to the Sharp QS-2130 Compact Desktop Calculator found in her briefcase, there wasn’t necessarily anything extraordinary about her. The thirty-four-year-old female had no next of kin and her 450 square foot studio showed no signs of a significant other. 

However, underneath the starched oxford shirt and perfectly pleated pants were artful lines and symbols permanently inked into her skin. Her legs, arms, and back were tastefully decorated. Some larger and some darker than others, showing the agedness of the black ink. None exceeded a width or diameter of more than an inch and three-quarters. Most importantly, all were easily concealed by professional attire and crew socks. 

The most jarring embellishments were the twin barbells pierced through her nipples. The bars themselves were implant grade surgical steel and were completed with near colorless diamond balls to secure them in place. They overshadowed the matching gem nestled in her navel. Beneath the 'Plain Jane' aesthetic was a complexity that Maura understood. 

“C.O.D.?” Jane’s voice echoed in the morgue as the automatic doors whooshed shut behind her. 

“Myocardial infarction. The deceased had congestive heart failure.” Maura couldn’t stop staring at the wisps of black ink that peeked out from the white sheet covering Amélie Saunders’ body. It made her back itch with anticipation and her hip twitch in guilt. With both hands, she gripped the edge of the autopsy table and tried to breathe out evenly. 

“So...a natural death?” The detective’s voice was hopeful.

The medical examiner didn’t have to turn around to see the partial excitement that flashed across the detective’s face. It had been a long week and they were all eager to have a murder and paperwork free weekend. While a natural death required no investigative efforts, a full report as well as a death certificate still needed to be filed and issued. For everyone else, they’d get to leave early. For Maura, she’d stay the extra few hours on a Friday night to have a free and clear weekend, but to also give peace to the woman on her table. She also knew that Jane would keep her company for the extra hours she’d stay past the end of the normal working day. It was Friday after all. 

“Yes, Jane. I’ll file the report today and issue the death certificate. Vital statistics will be long gone by the time everything is complete, so the body will be released on Monday. Dinner tonight?” Maura knew it was a silly question, but it was nice to have the confirmation. 

“Where else would I be?” The raspy and sarcastic drawl of Jane’s voice was not missed, but ignored. She continued, “And why are you giving Saunders’ tattoos a visual autopsy? Are they not art museum worthy?” Jane smirked at her own quip. 

Maura opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. She wasn’t sure why she was reacting this way. Throughout her tenure at BPD, her career prior to Boston, and even during her residency, she had seen hundreds of bodies with tattoos and piercings. While she appreciated the craftsmanship and artistic creativity in almost all of them, Amélie Saunders’ struck a chord. Instinctively, she laid a hand over her lower stomach and tried to find words. 

“Outwardly, she’s proper and presentable, but the things that she values the most are hidden. They’re like reminders to herself in ways that only she’d understand. They’re permanently personal.” Maura’s voice was softly wistful. 

“O-kay. So instead of sticking Post-Its on her bathroom mirror, she just looks at herself?” Confusion riddled Jane’s question.

“Jane, do you have any tattoos or piercings? While I have seen you in various states of undress, I’ve never seen you nude. There could be a multitude of places for—” Maura rolled her eyes as the detective interrupted her.

“W-what?! No! What kind of question is that? Do you?!” The Italian was animatedly using her hands to express her shock, but long gone was the discomfort of talking about most things with the doctor. As time flew by and their friendship grew, Jane slowly got past Maura’s lack of filter and instead found it to be more refreshing than a nuisance. Jane also realized that it was either forever get exasperated with her best friend or accept it and go with the flow. 

“A valid one.” Maura held her breath. She knew what was coming. Her breathing was becoming labored and she felt the rising heat rush up her neck. Her body shivered as goose bumps crawled up her legs and shot straight up her back. Her face was furiously red, and her eyes burned as if the vitreous fluid turned into acid.

“Tick tock, Maur. The hives are here.” The jest was evident, but Jane Rizzoli had a heart. She briskly walked to the not-dead freezer and grabbed two ice packs. Rushing over to the hyperventilating and blotchy faced doctor, she pressed one cold pack to the back of Maura’s neck and the other just above the ‘V’ of black scrubs. Pressing her front against Maura’s back, Jane rested her chin on the top of blonde hair. Patience was not a trait that was often associated with the detective, but for Maura, she had all the time in the world. So she waited in silence. 

“Yes,” Maura whispered. 

“I always knew you were a badass.” Jane pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of the doctor’s head and tossed the melting ice packs onto an empty metal slab. Placing her damp, cold hands on Maura’s waist, she coaxed the tense woman to turn around. As she slid her hands up, Jane cupped a warm face as her thumbs brushed over blotchy cheeks. Dark brown eyes zeroed in on the slightly freckled skin of Maura’s face and Jane’s thumbs wiped the two stray tears that escaped rapidly blinking green eyes. 

“So which one is it?” Jane continued, “Piercings or tattoos?” Tugging the blonde closer and burying her nose in the space between Maura’s shoulder and neck, the detective in Jane was unable to let it go. 

“Both, actually.” The honey blonde’s voice wavered slightly, but Jane’s hold kept her grounded. Maura let out a ragged breath as she continued, “As I got older, I took a lot of the piercings out, but I still have a few remaining. And much to my mother’s chagrin, I still adore my tattoos.” Maura burrowed her head against Jane’s chest, hoping to hide the redness that was brightening across her freckled face and climbing up her chest.

The detective shivered. Her attraction to the doctor in her arms increased tenfold. “Plural tattoos _and_ piercings? Dr. Isles, you’ve been holding out on me.” Jane smiled against Maura’s neck and breathed in deeply. 

It was no secret that the doctor and detective were wildly attracted to one another. They knew it and everyone around them did too. They’ve been teetering on the edge of giving into years of pent up flirtation and blatant sexual attraction. Both women stopped dating and spent nearly all their free time together. Affectionate gestures grew into brazen touches to the point of separate cold showers and never-ending frustration. They were so close to the tipping point, but there was an unknown threadlike roadblock that neither of them could surpass. Until now. 

“Show me.” Jane’s voice was low and vibrated against the pulse point of Maura’s neck. The detective dragged her lower lip up the length of soft skin and nipped gently as she got to the small space behind the doctor’s ear. Maura’s eyes slammed shut as she grasped the detective’s belt to keep herself upright. Tilting her head to the side, the smaller woman bit her lip and tried to find words to string into a coherent sentence. 

“You have to take me out first.” Maura mewled at the loss of contact when Jane pulled back. Hazel eyes darkened as she felt brown eyes scanning her from head to toe. Taking the taller woman’s hands into her own, Maura slid their hands up towards her midriff and back down, settling on her pelvic region. 

“Piercings and tattoos that warrant wining _and_ dining?” Jane’s whispering made the hairs on the back of Maura’s neck stand up. 

Choosing not to answer the brunette’s question, Maura clasped their hands together and stepped on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss against Jane’s cheek. She pulled back and smiled up at the taller woman. “Come down and pick me up at 7:00P.M?” 

Jane nodded her head and returned a lingering kiss to the doctor’s forehead. Unable to verbalize her response, Jane unclasped her hands from Maura’s and brought them up to a freckled face. She ran her thumb across cheek bones once more and leaned down one last time to place a gentle kiss on the corner of soft lips. 

Untangling from their intimate embrace, Maura watched as Jane walked confidently out of the morgue with the automatic doors whooshing open and shut. Hazel eyes followed the lithe form of the retreating taller woman as hands reached up to softly trace her own lips. Blushing and averting her eyes down to the linoleum tiles beneath her clogs, Maura shook her head lightly and continued her work—albeit wildly distracted.


	2. Deux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support!

* * *

She was comfortably engrossed in the report being typed on her computer with her reading glasses perched low on her nose and her Giuseppe Zanotti’s taken off. Her fingers moved efficiently and swiftly across the keyboard as she hummed along to _L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_ that was softly playing in the background. With her hair away from her face, Dr. Isles was in her own world and completely unaware of the lanky voyeur observing her from the doorway. 

Scanning and proofreading her work, the blonde jumped as she heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, she found Jane leaning against the door jamb with one hip and her arms crossed loosely under her chest. Running her eyes up from leather black boots to the pointed ‘V’ in the detective’s olive colored t-shirt, Maura blushed furiously as she all but shoved her glasses off of her face. 

“H-hi.” Maura’s blush reddened at her stutter. 

“Ready?” Jane pushed herself from the door and began walking towards the blushing blonde.

“Five minutes?” The perfectionist in her couldn’t leave the report incomplete. Not when she was almost finished and ready to schedule the automatic submission for Monday. She could see the finish line and she only needed to review two more paragraphs and e-sign her name on the bottom.

“Of course. I’ll be right here.” The detective sat in the middle of the couch with her arms resting along the back and her legs spread slightly apart. Hazel eyes raked over the taller woman’s lithe form again and immediately averted her gaze back to her laptop when their eyes met. 

The tension in the room was thick and palpable. Maura’s fingers flew even faster across the keyboard and her eyes were working quicker than her brain could process. With a final press of the enter button and an insertion of her official signature, the medical examiner clicked a few more selections and shut her laptop after hearing the systematic _swoosh_ of a successfully sent email. She smiled softly to herself as the satisfaction of a task completed settled her overworked brain. 

Bending down to slip on her black pumps and pulling her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk, Maura stood with her back to Jane and reached for her trench coat hanging from the six-foot tall coat rack. She laid the jacket over her arm and grabbed her keys from the ceramic bowl next to the rack. A warm body suddenly moulded to her back with long arms engulfing her around the waist. The keys clanged and banged back into the fragile dish. 

“Ready to go?” Jane’s breath tickled Maura’s ear as the smaller woman leaned back into open arms. 

“Mhm.” With her eyes fluttering shut, the blonde revelled in the warmth of Jane’s embrace and allowed the detective to blindly lead her out of the office. Locking the door, Maura expected Jane to release the hold on her waist, but was adoringly surprised when the taller woman kept an arm wrapped around her as they got into the elevator. Jane didn’t let go until Maura was safely in the passenger seat of her own car. 

The silence was pleasant as she watched the detective adjust the seat and mirrors. Trusting Jane implicitly, Maura laid her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. She was lost in comfort until a strong hand palmed her knee and slid up her thigh, stopping just at the hem of her dress. The soft gasp that slipped past shocked lips encouraged the brunette to inch the tips of her fingers underneath the Carolina Herrera dress and rest her calloused hand atop of smooth skin. 

“Feeling brazen, detective?” Maura’s voice was laced with desire and curiosity. 

Glancing at the bold woman to her left, the question was left unanswered except for a knowing smile and slight bite of a bottom lip. Deciding to let it go, Maura laid her hand on top of the warm one resting on her thigh and gently pushed it up higher until fingertips grazed against the edge of silk. The doctor breathed out heavily and uneven as long fingers began to lightly scrape against newly discovered skin.

“Where are we going for dinner?” Maura abandoned her direction of Jane’s hand and moved her hand to run her fingers through unruly brunette locks of hair. She used blunt nails to scratch lightly at the back of the detective’s scalp and grinned when she noticed Jane try harder to concentrate on the road. 

“Vincenzo’s.” Jane was currently only capable of one word responses. Between the hand underneath Maura’s couture dress and the deft fingers running through her hair, the brunette’s brain had to use what was left of her concentration to ensure that they’d make it to their destination in one piece. 

“For me?” Fingers ceased their slow torture against the nape of the brunette’s neck and moved up to gently stroke the side of Jane’s face. “You know I love it there.” Maura attempted to lean over to press her lips against Jane’s cheek only to gasp and arch her back against the leather seat as the fingers beneath her dress pressed abruptly against her center. 

Jane laughed. An honest, deep chuckle that made her eyes crinkle and emphasized laugh lines around pink lips. The car was filled with melodic laughter from both women. Before they knew it, Jane pulled into the carpark and shut the engine off. Dashing out of the car to the other side, she gracefully pulled open Maura’s door before the blonde could take off her seat belt. 

With a flourish of her arms and slight bend at the hip, Jane faked a posh accent. “M’lady, please accompany me to this fine establishment.” 

Maura grinned as she unbuckled herself and laced her fingers with the outstretched hand. The door shut softly behind her and with a speed that made the blonde do a double take, Jane was gallantly leading them to the front door of the restaurant with a trench coat and Birken in tow. 

They were seated immediately upon entering. Their normal table, in the corner by the window, had a bottle of Santa Margherita chilling in the ice bucket and a bottle of Montepulciano set in the middle of the table. Maura was touched. Her heart swelled and she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She pulled Jane into a gentle side hug and finally pressed her lips against a blushing cheek, lingering a little longer than what was socially acceptable for a public venue. 

Once seated, the waiter beelined to their table and held a wine bottle in each hand. Accustomed to the behaviors and idiosyncrasies of the women before him, he waited until white cloth napkins were neatly placed on laps and then glanced at Maura for guidance. 

“White, please. Thank you.” Maura watched, with enjoyment, as the capsule was removed with ease and smiled at the satisfying sound of the cork being released. She eyed the taste test amount poured elegantly into her narrow mouthed glass. Sliding the most bottom part of the stem between her pointer and middle fingers, Maura swirled the glass by the base three times before lifting it up to her nose. Inhaling deeply and smiling before she took a sip, the doctor shimmied her shoulders and nodded her head as the crisp, light drink slid smoothly down her throat. 

With both glasses filled and the bottle back into the ice bucket, the waiter left with an understood and unspoken request for their usual orders. He knew that his presence would not be needed again unless it was to serve food or deliver the check at the end. 

“So...do I get a hint?” Jane’s smile was bashful. 

“Hmm.” Maura tapped her pointer finger against her chin. Meeting humorous brown eyes, hazel eyes glinted in what was left of the sun. “No. Do your gumshoe thing.” 

“Nothing except the first piercing on your ear lobes.” The detective was scanning the face across from hers for any sign of healed marks or darker spots. Seeing none, the brunette cocked her head to the side and began tapping her fingers against the table. 

“I used to have a few cartilage piercings in high school and throughout undergrad. Once I got into med school, I took a majority of them out.” Maura gracefully polished off her first glass of wine and as soon as she set it down, Jane was already refilling the crystal. 

“I can picture a Lady Maura Godiva parading around campus with a belly button ring too.” Jane grinned as she glanced down to the front of Maura’s dress.

“Mm, you’d be correct. While I don’t actively wear a navel ring everyday, the hole never closed, so on days when I’m feeling especially good or sexy, I just make it a part of my accessorizing routine.” Flushed skin rose up from a freckled chest to Maura’s neck and it soon graced her cheeks with a tinge of pink. Mentally, she blamed it on the wine and warm atmosphere, but she knew better. Soon, Jane would know all there is to know about Maura Dorothea Isles. 

The Inquisition was halted when their food arrived. Conversation ebbed and flowed naturally and effortlessly. Laughter and bickering filled their blissful bubble. Jokes and quips were thrown, but were evened out by tender words and confessions. The bottle of wine was long gone and was replaced with a cold bottle of sparkling water. They opted out of dessert with the excuse of being too full. With the check in hand, the waiter set it down gently in front of Jane and quickly retreated. 

Maura squinted suspiciously at the detective. Rolling her eyes and skeptically looking at the smug brunette, the poised blonde held her hand out expectantly with a raised eyebrow. Vincenzo’s was always her treat and the waiter _always_ gave her the check. It was an unspoken understanding between all parties. However, seeing Jane open the check presenter and scrawl numbers followed by a signature towards the bottom third of the bill without having to pull out her wallet, Maura pouted. 

“Jane! That’s not how this works.” The whiny tone and slight droop of her shoulders made the taller woman chuckle. 

“I know, baby.” Jane smiled softly.

“Oh.” Hazel eyes widened as Maura bit her lip and tilted her head down shyly. 

“Is that okay?” The detective waited.

The doctor stood up gracefully. She grabbed her coat and purse before making her way to Jane’s side of the table. Sliding her free hand to the nape of Jane’s neck, she gently pulled at thick hair to tilt the brunette’s head back. Subtle, yet intense, eye contact was made before she pressed her lips against Jane’s. Breaking away after a few seconds, Maura slid her hand down a long arm until she could lace their fingers together. She pulled Jane up and led them confidently out the front door. 

Sauntering to the car, Maura opened the back door and carefully placed her belongings onto the backseat. She returned her attention to a dazed detective leaning against the passenger side door. Thankful for her heels, the doctor wrapped her arms comfortably around the taller woman’s neck and brushed their lips together again. She parted her lips as a moan escaped when Jane pulled her flush against her front. Standing on tiptoes to be closer to Jane, Maura’s bare leg grazed the cool metal of the car and she jumped at the stark contrast in temperature. Lips parted with ragged breathing and Maura laid her head against Jane’s chest. 

“You never answered my question.” The brunette’s raspy voice was like liquid sex, but the jest could still be heard in her tone. 

“Jane.” The blonde paused, breathing in deeply before continuing. “I-It’s more than okay, yeah?” Maura was flustered. “Where to now?” She couldn’t keep her hands to herself anymore. Dexterous hands untucked the cotton t-shirt from tightly belted pants and rested on ungodly warm skin. “Home, yes?” Decorum be damned. 

“Mhm.” Jane opened the car door and gestured for the blonde to get inside.

Maura sat, buckled, and did a small breathing exercise to help regulate her heart rate. Feeling the wind in her face as Jane cracked the windows open, the doctor could breathe just a bit easier. She glanced over to Jane and smiled at the completely relaxed demeanor the detective carried. Maura’s gaze never moved from Jane, even after the twenty minute drive to her Beacon Hill home. 

Again, Jane quickly got out of the car to open Maura’s door. Grabbing everything from the car, the duo made their way into the house. Maura immediately slipped off her heels as she watched the detective put her gun in the safe and placed her boots next to black heels. Before the blonde could speak, she was being taken to the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard. Furrowing her brows in confusion, Maura followed regardless. 

The first thing she noticed was that the patio lights were on, which struck her as odd. She rarely spent time in the back. Stepping through the doors, Maura’s face lit up. The outdoor string lights were on and illuminated the green space from their place along the white fencing. There was a blanket in the middle of the grass with a bottle of Moët chilling in an ice bucket and a small cooler next to the champagne. Clasping onto the hand laced with hers, Maura all but dragged Jane to the created cozy space. 

With all the excitement radiating through her body, Maura still had the grace to sit politely with her legs tucked underneath herself. “Ja—I mean...How did you…?” The genius was at a loss for words. 

“Magic.” Jane plopped herself across from Maura and reached into the cooler for the champagne flutes. Popping a few frozen strawberries into the crystal, Jane effortlessly uncorked the champagne and poured two glasses. Handing one to Maura and raising her glass up slightly, Jane blushed before she continued. “To magic. Salute.” 

“To magic. And you. Santé.” Maura whispered before she clinked her glass against Jane’s and took a sip. 

Unable to hold back, Maura set her glass down and did the same for Jane. She kneeled to inch her dress up and with the grace of a ballerina, she spun around and straddled the taller woman’s lap. Maura wrapped her arms around Jane’s neck as strong hands slid down her back and cupped her backside. A yelp of surprise left the doctor’s mouth as a smile was beamed up at her. 

“I believe you have more to share?” Jane pressed her lips against the skin exposed above the scoop neck of Maura’s dress. 

“Mhm. I have two more piercings and three tattoos. But, I believe the piercings should be a surprise.” Maura cut Jane off before she could speak. She wound her fingers through curls and crashed their lips together. Teeth clashed as they fought for dominance. However, with Jane’s _handy_ advantage, she used both hands to ruck the dress around Maura’s waist. Confident hands shifted the petite woman until she was settled onto the taller woman with a thigh between her legs. Maura keened when the brunette broke their kiss. 

“First tattoo. When, where, and why?” Jane flexed her thigh as she pushed Maura’s hips down against the strong muscle. She kept a steady rhythm, enjoying the way the blonde bit her lip and stumbled to find words. 

“A thin outline of a woman doing Vrikshasana.” Maura breathed out raggedly and lifted her hips from Jane’s thigh. Her body was overheating and her otherwise very comfortable dress was beginning to stick to her like a second skin. Unsure if she felt relieved or more frustrated at the lack of contact, she promised to tell Jane. So she continued—although the usually composed doctor was only capable of choppy sentences. 

“I was in Paris. Sixteen years old. Tattoo is between T6 to T10, on my spine. I needed to find balance within my life. My parents weren’t who I needed them to be. I accelerated at everything I did, but I was alone. That’s when I got into yoga. ‘Grow internally as you blossom from within.’” Maura closed her eyes and sank back down onto Jane’s thigh. She rolled her hips roughly against the muscle between her legs, moaning at the friction and heat. 

“Is that why you always wear racerbacks and high back blouses?” Jane’s grip on slim hips tightened as she helped guide Maura’s gyrating body. 

The feeling of Jane all around her was intoxicating. The doctor could not concentrate on a word the detective just said let alone her own thoughts and responses. But she couldn’t stop now. She had waited years for this moment and she’d bear her mind, body, and soul to Jane if it meant that she didn’t have to stop. Semi-consciously ignoring the question, Maura continued her quest for release. 

Doubling her efforts, she gripped brunette curls roughly and crashed their lips together. She nipped at a lower lip and used her free hand to guide one of Jane’s hands from her ass to her breast. The blonde squeezed her hand over the detective’s to encourage the brunette. Dazed and aroused, Maura was shocked to suddenly find herself on her back, legs parted with Jane filling the void. 

She looked up at expectant eyes and groaned in frustration. Jane’s curiosity and inability to leave anything unsolved was shining brightly. It was a trait that she normally found endearing and downright sexy. But in this moment, it was the bane of her sexual existence. Maura flung an exasperated arm across closed eyes and breathed out deeply. 

“Yes, Jane. I got so used to hiding it for over two decades that I sometimes forget that I have a tattoo there. Buying clothing that conceals all modifications is second nature. I don’t even think about it anymore.” Hips thrusted up hoping to catch any friction she could find. Feeling nothing but a slight breeze, Maura propped herself on her elbows and looked down at their current position. 

Her dress was shucked above her waist, exposing wet silk. Jane was sitting on the back of her heels between her legs, raking her eyes up and down bare skin. Maura thanked the universe for the eight-foot tall white fencing and that she lived in a quiet neighborhood with residents that didn’t leave their house past 9:00P.M. Glancing around at the quiet and open space, her eyes became saucers as she focused on the guest house. Quickly shoving her dress down and sitting up properly, Maura began panicking. 

“Jane! Your mother is home right now!” The blonde hissed.

The mirth on the defined face was evident. “Maur, she’s not. I told her to go spend some, ugh, quality time with Cavanaugh.” Jane’s face contorted at the thought of her birth giver and boss together. 

“Oh, thank god.” She let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the act of being caught that concerned Maura. She’s been caught in compromising positions before and she wasn’t ashamed, nor will she ever find fault in her physicality. However, the notion of having to explain something so new, uncharted, and life altering to a woman whose daughter she was grinding against as well as a woman whom she thought of as a mother caused deep concern. Especially since they had yet to discuss the meaning of the shift in their relationship. 

“Let’s go inside.” Jane stood tall and pulled Maura with her. 

“Wait. Jane.” Instant guilt filled her chest. “I’m sorry if that came out wrong. I-I just—” Maura moaned as she was cut off with a searing kiss. 

“I need you less distracted.” The detective slid her hands down to wrap around the blonde’s waist and continued. “I understood you, baby.” Jane pressed a soft kiss against pliant lips and smiled at the dreamy look in Maura’s eyes. 

“Keep calling me that and I’ll show you instead of telling you.” Guilt was abated and replaced with raw desire. The elegant blonde never had a lover call her something so cliché and mundane. It always sounded juvenile and infantilizing. She used to hope that she’d never have to encounter someone who believed that the term of endearment was acceptable for an adult woman who was completely self-aware. The doctor usually wrinkled her nose in distaste when she heard others use it openly and freely. She was always ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’. But as soon as Jane uttered ‘baby’ for the first time, her chest grew hot and a wave of arousal shot straight to her core. She craved to hear it now and she’d research why her body responded to it later.

“As much as I would love that, I want to hear you talk about them. I love learning about you. I love listening to you.” Jane closed the sliding doors behind her and led them to the couch. 

Tears welled up in hazel eyes, but Maura refused to let them fall. She placed a knee on each side of Jane’s legs and resumed her position from earlier. Toned arms circled the taller woman’s neck as she pushed their fronts closer together. The knowledge and lack of permission needed to be held like this was a luxury that Maura hoped she’d never lose, not when she now knew what it felt like.


	3. Trois

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine trying to bang a uey going 85 mph, in the middle of a highway, with bumper to bumper traffic in your way. That's how difficult and aggravating it was to write this chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

“Sophomore year at BCU, my physics lab partner became my first real friend. Wyatt made learning fun. He made the world a little less intimidating.” Maura chuckled at the slightly tainted memories. “It was the first time I didn’t feel socially inept. He was kind and he accepted me. Social blunders and all. He knew I was a bit of a loner, but he was patient.” 

“Do I have to hunt him down or what?” Jane’s mistrust of the general public, but especially college frat boys, was evident in her tone. 

“It’s a life lesson, I promise.” Maura smiled as she pressed a chaste kiss against a grimacing mouth. “He ended up in a relationship with a seemingly jealous girlfriend. It was his first love and he was smitten. God, he was hopelessly in love with her.” 

At eighteen, she didn’t understand how a person could be in a relationship so consuming that the constant need to be around each other outweighed everything else. Did codependency and stability actually go hand-in-hand? Was that something that she wanted for herself? To be so absorbed in someone else that it took precedence over her own independence and mental health? 

She thought back to her relationship with Garrett. It required so much effort and the intricacies of being with a fellow Bostonian elite was exhausting. It drained every ounce of patience and adoration she had for the rebellious socialite. The societal, emotional, and mental stress of living up to the soaringly high expectations that were put upon her to uphold the Fairfield _and_ Isles names required her to acquire a persona she loathed. So she ended it before it could chip away at the armor she built around herself. She left with her dignity intact.

Even then, there was nothing all consuming about hers and Garrett’s relationship. Maura wondered if she’d ever understand what happened to her friendship with Wyatt. 

But then there was Ian. Their love was fast paced and gut-wrenching. Death surrounded them. Exposed to diseases and situations beyond scientific approach infiltrated their polyester tented love. Early mornings into early morning nights were filled with triage and blood. Sleep barely came to them and when it did, it was spent trying to forget the virus ridden village they called home. She clung onto him. They needed each other in ways that were incomprehensible. A part of Maura will always love him, but Ian fell in love with a warzone first and she knew she’d always come second. 

While she depended on Ian’s presence, the environment their love existed in was an unusually extenuating circumstance. Yes, Ian tried to shelter her from the horrors around them. But Dakar was darker and more violent than she anticipated. Ian was the faint light she used and needed to ensure that she wouldn’t lose herself. Of course they fell in love. It was inevitable. But even then, she did not hesitate to leave when the opportunity arose. 

Ian had truly taught her things about herself, but she didn’t need him to breathe. Maura didn’t crave his attention or affection. She didn’t rely on him to make decisions for her or cause her to make decisions for herself with him in mind. She was still her own person. Even after a year in a warzone with a man she clung on to, Maura was no closer to understanding how a relationship could be all that encompassing to the point of losing herself. 

However, everything changed in New York. At twenty-seven years old, she finally understood what it was like to be consumed with a love so overpowering, she didn’t think she’d survive. And if she were honest with herself, she nearly didn’t. 

It was a slow and unbearably gradual buildup, spanning the course of almost two years. She just started as a medical examiner at the 54th Precinct and Addison was an attending surgeon at New York Presbyterian. It was explosive and impulsive. It was liberating and stifling at the same time. Even after finding out that Addison was spoken for, a year into their relationship, Maura knew it was wrong—to sleep and fall in love with a married woman. But she did. She knew it wouldn't last and she was right, it didn’t. 

Addison chose her husband. 

The medical examiner took it in stride, despite it shattering every piece of her heart and sense of self-respect. With a perfunctory smile in place, she air kissed the older woman’s tear stained cheek and walked out of the hotel room without a glance back. Maura numbly hailed a cab home and immediately responded to the job offer from the Chief Medical Examiner of San Francisco. 

Every surface and wall of her high rise apartment was painted with memories and an intimacy she’d rather forget. She saw red hair, blue eyes, and a soft smile looking at her every time she walked into the kitchen. When her dry cleaning was delivered, there were silk blouses a size too small mixed in with her plastic covered delicates—sticking to them as if they belonged. There was a well-worn pair of Manolo Blahnik’s in Maura’s closet that didn’t belong to her and when she looked at the still cluttered bedside table on the left side of the bed, she felt herself choking back tears. She was suffocating in her own home.

Within a month, her high rise apartment was packed up and she was on her way to California. She even ran into a red, teary-eyed Addison in the lobby the day she moved out. And with years of practiced aloofness, Maura confidently pushed through the gold revolving door. She knew that she’d falter and easily slip back into open arms if she so much as spared her former lover a glance. 

At twenty-nine, Maura finally understood how a love so consuming could turn her into someone she didn’t recognize. Morality and scruples were damned and thrown down the drain. It was wildly unhealthy and the pain was insurmountable. 

San Francisco was a blur. She worked herself to the bone and her life became about her work. It was immaculate before, but striving for perfection grew to be a means of necessity. Maura Isles was teetering on the edge of complete social detachment and she was rewarded for achieving it when the Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts asked her to be the next Chief Medical Examiner. Naturally, she rationally thought about the pros and cons before deciding. 

The realization that she had made it to the pinnacle of her career at just newly thirty, Maura accepted the offer. She thought that maybe all the heartbreak would cease if she came back to where she felt most comfortable. It was the only home that she had known and one of very few places where home didn’t hurt so much. 

Maura shook her head quickly and remembered to be in the present. To remember whose lap she was currently sitting on. She found a balance—an even distribution of weight enabling someone or something to remain upright and steady. She loved Jane fiercely, but it wasn't debilitating. She didn't have to sacrifice her own peace of mind and standards to be with her. Maura didn't have to barter with her for an iota of her time. She didn't have to prove herself worthy nor did she believe that they would have to clandestinely hide their love.

She continued as if her life’s heartbreak hadn’t just flashed before her eyes. 

“Wyatt’s girlfriend made it hard for him to be friends with me. He started to cancel scheduled plans and study group sessions. Over time, I stopped asking.” Skilled hands twirled an errant brunette curl around a dexterous fingers. Twirling her own hair would be a sign of sexual frustration, but twirling Jane's hair was a gesture of affection. Adoration. Comfort. 

“Did he ever talk to you again? You obviously still had to see him in class.” Jane was confused as she saw nothing but compassion and understanding in hazel eyes. But there was a tinge of something else she couldn’t decipher. 

“One day, I got to class and the professor told me that Wyatt dropped the class. I was devastated, but not unaccustomed to people just leaving. I was assigned a new lab partner. She was awful and not all that bright.” Maura grimaced at the memories of a bumbling Tiffany Adams trying to scrape by in an advanced physics course.

“So...did you, like, tattoo his name on your ass or something?” Jane’s grin was salaciously playful. It helped lighten the atmosphere.

“You’re ridiculous.” Maura nuzzled her face into Jane’s neck and nipped lightly at the sensitive skin. 

Past heartbreak was temporarily forgotten as she ran her tongue up and down the smooth column. Pulling back, she continued. “Weeks passed and I ran into him at the library. I turned around and walked right back out. He ran after me and I could hear the guilt in his voice. He told me that he wished things were different, but he loved her and he was so happy.” Maura was always the understanding one, but also always the one caught in the crossfire. Always the one who walked away hurt.

“First loves are rough, but he lost a great friend in the process. Are they even together still?” Jane rolled her eyes at the stupidity of some college boy who willingly let Maura Isles go from his life. 

“No, but that’s not the point. He told me that he was sorry for being another person who let me down. We never discussed my past, but he knew. Wyatt told me that I had to _‘delta v over delta t’_ to keep moving forward. Change over time. That was the last laugh I had with him. But that stuck with me. I started writing the formula everywhere to get me through the rest of the semester.” Maura smiled wistfully. 

It didn’t just get her through college, but it helped propel her forward from all of life’s obstacles, mishaps, and incidents.

“I’ll take a stab in the dark—formula for acceleration?” Jane was 92% confident and 2% certain that she paid attention to physics during junior year of high school. The residual 6% was reserved for a sarcastic comment in the event that she was wrong.

“Yes!” The doctor giddily pressed an open mouthed kiss against smiling lips. “So before the spring semester, I took my physics notebook with me to a reputable tattoo parlor near campus and asked the artist for a simplified version. _Delta over t_ in Times New Roman font.” 

“Where is it?” Jane raked her eyes down the body sitting on top of her. 

Maura untangled herself from Jane’s lap and stood between parted legs. The hem of her wool dress was lifted to her waist and held in her left hand while the right pulled down the waistband of ruined silk. Inked onto a pale hip was the simplified formula: the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet as the numerator, a vinculum, and a Times New Roman italicized lowercase _‘t’_ as the denominator. 

She felt wet lips against her skin before she could continue her tale. Teeth scraped against her hip and was soothed by a warm tongue. Steadying herself with arms resting atop of strong shoulders, Maura bent her head down to watch Jane lave at the small fine line tattoo. She needed more. The night was testing her resolve and her control was crumbling. Between the teasing and trip down relationship lane, Maura needed to be touched. 

Her body was tense with anticipation, but there was something weighing her down that could only be relieved by someone who was unashamed to love her completely. The feeling was measurable to someone standing on her chest. And just when it briefly eased and she had a moment to breathe in relief, she didn’t even have time to exhale the pain before the weight settled back on top of her. She needed Jane. 

Maura ran her fingers through thick curly hair. Her voice came out softly, but was tinged with a desperate yearn. “Jay, please.” 

Jane’s head whipped back and Maura’s hand was knocked down. “What was that?” 

Maura smiled knowingly. 

“Say it again.” The brunette stood while sliding her hands up bare legs until they reached silk covered hips. 

“Why?” The blonde walked backwards, leading them to the staircase. The smaller woman climbed the first step and was now almost eye level with Jane. A slight staring contest that could singe eyelashes. 

“Say it again.” Persistence was a trait Jane could trademark. Brown eyes turned obsidian, making her look more out of control and feral than before. Maura wasn’t sure if her body could handle the exponential spike in arousal. It was dimming the pain of the past and she was certain that Jane had already felt how ready she was. How wet she was. Maura underestimated the amount of self-control the detective had as she was just a few seams from bursting herself. 

“Jay, take me to bed.” Maura gasped as she was roughly pushed against the staircase wall. Picture frames rattled as Jane trailed scorching open mouthed kisses down her neck, nipping and soothing her way down flushed skin. Before she knew it, she was being roughly deposited onto the bed. Maura let her head fall back and arms fell to her side. Muscles in her leg twitched as wet lips kissed up toned calves. Closing her eyes and getting lost in the sensation, Maura groaned as she felt Jane flop to her side. She opened one eye and glared at the detective parallel to her right. 

“So that’s two out of three tattoos and two mystery piercings.” Jane’s shit eating grin was nauseating and simultaneously frustrating.

“You’re a tease.” Maura huffed. The ups and downs of her arousal were becoming unbearable, and while she normally would revel in the chase, she needed the physical reminder that this was real. That she and Jane were real. 

The doctor knew that spontaneous combustion was not even remotely plausible, but she’s never had a lover (almost lover, really) give her a run for her money like this. It was addicting and maddening all at once. Maura absolutely loved it and on any other night, she could appreciate it. 

“We’re two-thirds of the way finished with your tattoos. On a normal night, we can eat more than a third of pizza in like ten minutes, therefore it shouldn’t take long for you to tell me about the last one!” Jane’s attempt at seriousness was a gallant effort, but ultimately, her dimples sold her out. 

“Cereal box mathematics, again?” Maura cackled. Anxiety and painful memories pushed aside and momentarily forgiven. Over the years, Jane’s half-assed attempts at logic and reasoning only existed for the blonde’s benefit and entertainment. Those moments and remarks made the doctor fall harder for the unruly Italian. However, thinking of the last tattoo she had yet to disclose dimmed Maura’s mood again. “Don’t be mad?” 

“Never.” Jane did not hesitate to lean over and peck her on the lips. 

Maura sighed. The tattoo was more of a reactionary response than a conscious decision. A previous lover once told her that, psychologically, body modifications were _an external solution to an internal problem._ She would normally argue against the simplistic and wildly judgmental statement, but in this case, there might’ve been some truth. She initially wanted to have it removed after it healed. But over time, she grew to love it as it served as a reminder of who she came from and how she rose from the ordeal. 

“It’s a Trinity knot also known as a triquetra. Beautifully intricate and feminine. It’s between vertebrosternal ribs five and six.” Maura paused with guilt. She was unsure of how Jane would respond. They had already forged a friendship when she got the tattoo. She thought of it as a betrayal to not disclose it to Jane. Her guilt ate away at her until one day it didn’t. It was that day that she began to realize that her love for Jane went beyond friendship.

Gently pushing the taller woman onto her back, the smaller of the two tucked her head under the detective’s chin and swung her leg over Jane’s clothed one. She nuzzled against the space between a warm shoulder and neck. She continued. “I got it shortly after Doyle kidnapped me.” 

“Why?” 

There was no judgement or anger or resentment in Jane’s voice. It made Maura’s heart fuller than she thought it could ever feel. 

“I finally found out where I came from. It was rashly spontaneous, but it _felt_ good. I remember when the artist was beginning the outline. It should’ve hurt or stung. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t feel a thing.” Maura chuckled at the memory. “Daisy, the artist, was shocked. I looked at the finished product and I smiled. The little girl in me who always wanted to know where she came from could finally close the last chapter of a Grimm fairytale.” 

“Where is it again?” Jane was in awe of the woman using her as a body pillow.

“Vertebrosternal ribs five and six. Hidden beneath the band of my bra.” Maura was suddenly tired. The rehashing of her past with her present was exhausting. While her libido was in overdrive just minutes ago, the night’s sharp turn down heartbreak road was draining thus waning out her arousal. The wet heat between her legs was now uncomfortable and cold versus the excitement and full-bodied heat it brought out earlier in the night.

They laid in a comfortable silence. Maura was absentmindedly twirling Jane’s cotton t-shirt between her fingers while the brunette was running her fingers up and down the blonde’s clothed back. Soothing motions that foreshadowed the mood for the rest of the night. No one’s hopes or desires were let down. The trust in knowing what they needed from each other over the duration of their friendship graciously overlapped into their new found relationship. There were no expectations of the night’s events. Being with each other was enough. Especially with the new added comfort of kisses and intimate affection.

“Let’s get ready for bed, Maur.” Jane pressed a kiss to slightly mussed hair and moved her shoulder gently to encourage the blonde to sit up. 

“Stay?” Exhausted hazel eyes looked up into pools of soft brown. She needed Jane to anchor her down. To feel the warmth of someone, who valued her for who she was, behind her as she slept. It was a need that she was never able to verbalize to anyone before. More times than not, her choices in bedroom companions or lovers never understood her internalized need to be needed. Or her need to be held. 

“There’s no place I’d rather be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew.


	4. Quatre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little longer than usual. Enjoy.

* * *

If she had to take her temperature, she would hypothesize that her body temperature had risen at least 1.5 degrees fahrenheit. Supine with one arm bent behind her head and the other relaxed at her side, Maura slowly opened her eyes with a sleepy smile etched onto her face. The honey blonde shifted her eyes to the tan arm flung across her midsection and a wild, long limb wedged between her bare legs. With a scrunched nose, Maura tried to huff away a stray curly end that tickled her gently. Jane’s face was nuzzled between her shoulder and neck. Her breaths were making the vellus hairs stand to attention, causing shivers down her body. 

“I can feel you watching me.” Malted whiskey with a dash of sleepiness whispered against her ear. 

The blonde’s face burned red. Again. For what seemed like the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours. She shifted her body to press their fronts together. Parting Jane’s legs with her knee, the doctor wedged herself even closer and nuzzled against an ungodly warm body. Both of their fingertips roamed over exposed skin. Their silent exploration over uncharted territory was wreaking havoc on their sleep ridden libidos. 

“What are our plans for today?” Jane’s voice was still a bit hoarse, but all was forgotten as her fingertips began drawing nondescript patterns across a soft pale lower back.

“Newbury Street brunch and shopping, remember?” Maura jerked her hips forward as wandering fingertips dipped below the waistband of her silk panties. She slammed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip. Her arousal came back in full force and she hoped that Jane would finally deliver on all of her teasing promises. 

“Any fittings today?” A typical Jane Rizzoli smirk was painted onto a sleepy face. 

“I have two—Akris and Valentino.” The honey blonde smiled as a realization came to the forefront of her mind. In the beginning, Jane loathed Newbury Street. She hated the restaurants and always thought that the sales concierges looked down at her. Maura used bribes of greasy food and later owed favors to get Jane to accompany her on shopping sprees and fittings. However, over the last three years, the detective stopped fighting it. In fact, gone were the compromises and in retrospect, Jane seemed to be enjoying herself. 

“I love Akris on you.” Jane’s eyes crinkled as her smile grew wider and wider. 

“Oh?” Maura could and would milk this for all it was worth. “And why’s that?” Part of her knew that it was the simplicity of their dresses and the muted or basic color schemes that always complimented her honey blonde hair or hazel eyes. But she knew there was more.

“I love that a lot of them have those mesh cutouts along the tops and backs of their blouses, but that’s also where most of your leather pants and skirts are from.” Jane peppered kisses along Maura’s jawline and ended her trail with a nip behind the honey blonde’s ear. 

And there it was. Maura roughly nudged Jane onto her back and straddled her thighs. She looked down at the bronzed goddess beneath her and flattened both hands against Jane’s shoulders. Flexing her thighs and leaning half her weight onto her arms, she effectively pinned the shocked detective in place. Maura rolled her hips against the solid muscles beneath her heat and her moan got caught in a dry throat. 

With her hips still gyrating, Maura asked the burning question. “When did you realize you were attracted to me?” She doubled her efforts by grinding harder and temporarily lost her rhythm when Jane slid calloused hands underneath her sleep shirt. Maura’s hands left their place on strong shoulders and laid them over wandering hands, tightening their grip against her waist. 

“At first, it was an appreciation for how well you took care of yourself. But then it grew into ‘wow that is a figure hugging shirt’ and ‘our running has helped her ass look great in those pants’. It wasn’t until I saw you in my work clothes during the Vega case that I realized that I was attracted to you.” Jane’s eyes raked up and down Maura’s moving body and with every word that came out of her mouth, obsidian eyes focused on the heated center using her body for pleasure.

There was a sheen of sweat coating the bridge of Maura’s nose and her silk night shirt was beginning to stick to her back. She raised her hands to her hair and pulled slightly sweaty and sleep mussed curls into a bunch at the top of her head. Using her left hand to hold her hair up, Maura took her right hand and palmed her own breast. She ran her fingertip over a sensitive nipple making her body jerk at the added stimulation. 

“When did you realize that you loved me?” Maura’s voice faltered, but she couldn’t stop her movements. She needed to hear Jane say it out loud, but the friction was too satisfying. Multitasking was possible, right? 

“I’ve always loved you. I loved you as a friend from the beginning and I still do. But then I fell in love with you the moment I was wiring you up to go into that abandoned warehouse.” Jane smiled sadly. 

Maura’s body shivered then froze as if she was doused in cold water. Gyrating movements abruptly halted and her arms fell to her sides immediately. She remembered the axe wound in their relationship clearly. At one point, she thought it would be irreparable. But that wasn’t what caused the cessation of her hips. 

“Title 18, rule 6-E.” Maura’s response was immediate, if not slightly robotic. The citation was burned into her memory. At the time, it made her question her own sense of morality and whether or not she could stand to lose Jane by throwing her scruples out the window again. In the end, she knew she made the wrong choice and that’s when she realized that Jane was worth the mar on her near perfect record according to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. 

“You’ve loved me since then?” Jane’s voice was so soft, Maura’s ears strained to hear her. They fell in silent love with each other around the same time and it took them over five years to admit it aloud. It was a cinematic tragedy.

“I love you and I hate it when you hate me.” She, verbatim, kept rehashing those tumultuous few days that turned into months. 

“Why did we wait so long?” Brown eyes closed as her long fingers reached out to clasp fidgeting hands. 

“I wasn’t ready. You weren’t ready either. We both had a lot of healing and growing to do. Ultimately, we weren’t ready.” Maura leaned down and touched her forehead to Jane’s. 

“Yeah.” Jane accepted it as the truth because there was no other explanation. As usual, Maura was right. Aside from the relationships they were in and out of, there were no other outside forces that prevented the women from being together. Just themselves. There wasn’t a black cloud following them and protesting that they stay away from each other. Quite the opposite actually. It was simply just a matter of having the emotional, mental, and physical capabilities to handle each other with care. They needed to wait until they could proceed _without_ hesitance and _without_ an abundance of caution. No reservations. All or nothing.

“Let’s get ready, yeah?” Maura softly rubbed her nose against Jane’s hoping to see that infectious Rizzoli smile that lit up her world. “I know exactly what to wear for you.” 

With that, the honey blonde gracefully bounded out of bed and into the master ensuite. She paused at the doorway and glanced back at Jane, who was following her every move. Winking at the blushing detective, Maura gently shut the door behind her and began her morning routine. 

* * *

Two hours later and Maura could hear a Red Sox game being played from an old DVR recording. She sat in front of the vanity with her hair effortlessly pulled back into a chignon and applied the last coat of mascara. Twisting the cap tightly, she checked for smudges and eyeshadow fallout. Seeing none, she headed towards her closet. Gentle hands hung the sky blue silk robe on its hook as she went to pull out her clothes for the day. 

If Jane loved her in Akris, then Akris she would wear. Carefully pulling on the jasmine colored silk v-neck camisole, she opted to pair it with a black leather skirt with four slits that made the usually restricting material more comfortable to wear. The season’s change permitted her to choose a hem length that was just over the line of unprofessional and to open her newest purchase—Gianvito Rossi’s Manhattan 85. It was a black patent leather, three-inch strappy heeled sandal that completed the look. Excited about her shoes and Jane’s reaction, the fashionista shut the lights off and made her way downstairs. 

As soon as her heels struck the first two steps, Jane powered the television off and waited at the bottom of the staircase. Maura could feel appreciative eyes slowly scanning their way up and down her body. With every step down, the skirt inched higher up her thighs exposing smooth, silky skin. Reminiscent of the previous night, Maura stood still on the bottom step and rested toned arms on top of strong shoulders. 

She stood taller than Jane with the aid of her heels and the seven and three-quarter inch rise of the wooden step beneath her shoes. It was the perfect vantage point to show the unusually silent detective that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath her white, low back silk top.

“Ready to go?” Maura whispered against pliant lips.

Articulate during almost any situation, she whimpered as she was lifted and gently planted onto solid, flat ground. Her back arched against the cold wall as bare skin met plaster. It was the first time she felt Jane slide her tongue against hers. As quick as it was, it was gone only for it to return with intent and purpose. A guttural moan was ripped from her throat as the tip of Jane’s tongue ran along the roof of her mouth. She was unprepared for the sensation, but she was even more unprepared when Jane hooked both hands just under her ass and lifted. 

Unfortunately, her skirt hindered the attempted act of possession. Instead, Maura wrapped her arms tighter around the Italian’s neck and tried to hold herself up that way. Tongues and teeth clashed. Moans filled the normally quiet house. Nips at lips fueled arousal. The give and take of kissing echoed up the stairwell. The intimacy was heavy and frenzied. 

Time eventually slowed. Hard, dominance fighting kisses turned into softer, languid swipes of lips and soft sounds of encouragement. Heavy petting and feverish touches turned into gentle, soothing contact. Maura was placed back on two heels, but Jane’s body never left hers. The fire that the doctor ignited within the detective was becoming controlled, but wouldn’t wane. She wasn’t sure if she ever wanted it to. 

“Your lipstick is gone.” Jane licked her lips and smiled. 

“I can always touch it up.” Maura nodded her head in the direction of her purse. 

“Please don’t.” Jane bit her lip. “Just wear that off-brand fruity chapstick you buy from the drugstore. One less thing to carry.”

Maura laughed. Of course the detective in Jane would notice that she still actively used the cheap alternative to her fifty-five dollar _lip moisturizer_. She thought back to the start of the running joke. It was a typical New England winter and there was a body by the Charles River. The wind chill was unbearable and her liquid lipstick was not the wisest choice for a ‘feels like five degrees’ early morning. Her lips were chapped beyond relief, so Jane ran into the nearest pharmacy. She returned with a brightly colored, artificially flavored and scented waxy chapstick. 

The cosmetic connoisseur used it until the tube was empty. And then she bought another one. It slowly became a staple in her travel makeup bag and when Jane found it in her purse as she dug around for mints, the detective never let her live it down. 

“Is that the only reason, Jay?” A telescope was not needed to see the twinkle in Maura’s eyes, but hazel eyes widened as a low gravelly voice responded to her. 

“Be careful, baby.” Jane stood taller and seemed to tower over the usually shorter woman, despite them now being almost the same height. “I would hate for your outfit to go to waste because you couldn’t behave.” 

Maura felt Jane’s soft lips against her check and then felt herself being pulled towards the front door. She grabbed a light coat, her Birken, and the keys to the Benz. Turning around, she caught Jane observing her from behind. Tilting her head to the side, Maura smiled as she took the time to officially check out the well-dressed Italian.

She smiled in recognition of clothing that fit the athletic yet extraordinarily feminine form. A white linen popover top with a soft collar and deep v-neck brought out sun kissed skin that had a slight sheen from the moisturizer applied moments ago. Cropped and tailored black chinos fit perfectly on long legs and left about four inches exposed at her ankles. J-Crew was the best introduction she ever acquainted Jane with.

What caught hazel eyes were the understated gold detail of the black loafers adorning the taller woman’s feet. Squinted eyes tried to make out the design. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she couldn’t recognize the brand. With the lack of creasing near the toe area as well as the unscuffed surfaces, Maura surmised that they were new. 

“They’re the Pinch Lobster Loafers from Cole Haan. You like?” Jane asked.

“Very much so. I also remember getting those pants tailored. I was shocked you didn’t tackle him when he got closer to the inseam.” Maura smiled at the memory. 

“I get most of my clothes tailored now. I’m sort of used to it.” Dimpled cheeks blushed. The cat was out of the bag.

“What? Since when? Why?” There was an overwhelming feeling brewing within herself. Fireflies in her abdomen? Dragonflies in her intestines? She couldn’t remember the idiom entirely, but knew that something was flying.

“I don’t want to be a complete embarrassment when we go out to these fancy schmancy places.” There was no resentment or discomfort in Jane’s voice. It was matter of fact. 

“You could never be an embarrassment to me. You know I don’t care about any of that. You have to know that I love—” Maura was cut off with a soft kiss. When they broke apart, Jane pulled their fronts together and used her hands to map the naked skin at Maura’s back that the silk camisole left open for the taking.

“I want to look good _with_ you. I’ve grown to actually love these clothes. I’m still me in them and they’re still comfortable, but they make me _feel_ good too.” Jane led the heeled woman backwards until they both stood in front of the full length framed mirror. “Look at us, baby. Look how good we look together.” Jane wrapped her arms around a trim waist and turned the petite woman around to face the mirror. Brown pools watched hazel eyes scan up and down at their reflection. 

Indeed they did. Jane’s toned arms flexed as they held her midsection tighter. Tanned skin against pale stood starkly against one another. Skirt versus pants complimented them as a unit. Three-inch heels compared to the half-inch block heel of the loafers made them almost equals in height. Both wore white on their top halves and black on the bottom. Similar, yet very different. 

The exposures of skin were not overdone, but still something to be noted. Maura’s soft shoulders and defined back were tastefully shown—the tree pose tattoo clearly on display. Jane’s prominent collar bones could and would create envy with even the most confident of women and her arms were lithe, yet noticeably strong. 

In essence, they looked more than good together. Maura knew they were a striking pair. Everyone always turned their heads when they were out on the town. People stared at her and Jane whether it was in judgement or appreciation. Nonetheless, they stared. 

“Is the low back v-neck for my benefit?” Jane let Maura digest her admission and leaned against the entryway coat closet door with her hands in black pockets. Brown eyes traced the black outline of the sanskrit word she couldn’t pronounce. 

“Mhm.” Maura shook her head out of her reverie and walked to the front door. Turning back towards Jane, she tossed the sleek black key fob at Jane. She watched as glee flashed across brown eyes when the quick reflexed detective caught the sturdy plastic. 

“Really?” Jane’s face lit up. Rarely did Jane ever get to drive the Mercedes-Benzes Maura owned, especially since Maura barely drove them herself. However, the newest one the doctor acquired had the speed demon in the detective itching to just sit behind the wheel. The S-Class Coupe replaced the older model the medical examiner turned in a few weeks ago after her lease expired. Maura even let Jane choose the interior and exterior colors when she brought her to the dealership. 

“Once around the park and home, James.” Maura grinned.

“Anything for you.” The sincerity in the words made the honey blonde blush. 

* * *

The car was valeted at the midpoint between all the shops on the day’s itinerary. Brunch was a quick and light affair. Almost nothing changed about how they interacted in public, except for the most obvious displays of affection. Kisses were light and airy. Freeing in a way that neither woman expected. They’ve always felt a little awkward and a little uncomfortable with chaste kisses in public before. But with each other, it caused a blooming in their hearts and solidified their newfound closeness. It was welcomed with arms wide open. 

They walked with clasped hands, chatting lightly along the sidewalk. Jane had left her brunette curls down and Maura thought she never looked more breathtaking than she did when the occasional gust of wind blew through her otherwise tamed hair. The sunglasses resting on a chiseled face with help from rays of sun emphasized her natural beauty—clear dewy skin with a soft pink tint that highlighted laughing cheeks. She couldn’t resist abruptly stopping Jane mid-stride and crashing their lips together for a scorching few seconds. 

“I love that I can do that now.” Maura had to catch her breath. 

“Please do. Any time.” Jane’s grin was infectious. 

Maura grabbed her hand and pulled her through the glass doors of Akris. They were met with a rush of cold air as they entered the high-end boutique. The greeter waved them over and gave them double-cheek kisses. The giddiness between the stylist and fashionista had Jane lightly rolling her eyes, but she was smiling the whole time. 

Jürgen had been Maura’s tailor and stylist since she began shopping at Akris upon her return to Boston years ago. When he first met her, the German national saw a sadness that emanated from the honey blonde. It was like she was dragging around a hundred and thirty-five pound ball and chain. And at the time, she was. Except it didn’t have red hair, blue eyes, and a husband. It was just dead weight. 

But over time, the chip on her shoulder began to crack and hazel eyes brightened every time she came into the boutique. Then he met the most intimidating woman he’d ever encountered since coming to the States. Jane introduced herself with arms crossed and a hard look across her face. Every time he was within five inches of Maura, he felt daggers against his back. And unfortunately, every fitting after that, Maura brought Jane with her. 

He was terrified until he outed himself. 

Between helping Maura zip her dresses up and measuring all different areas of her body, Jürgen feared for his life. He was a six-foot-four man with dark hair and light eyes who ran marathons and could deadlift 450 pounds, but was petrified of a woman who was a fraction of his weight. And during one nerve wracking fitting, after a slip of his hand, his knuckle accidentally brushed a clothed crotch. Maura’s responsive yelp and immediate clench of her thighs had Jane’s protective instinct pinning Jürgen to the ground with a knee pushed into his chest. 

He was shaking and gesticulating as he half spoke and half yelled that he was a very very sorry gay man and that he could bring his husband by any time. Maura was partly mortified, partly trying to bite back a laugh, and incredibly turned on. 

Since then, the three of them have had a fantastic and comedic camaraderie. 

“Your orders came in yesterday morning and are waiting for you in the back.” Jürgen walked forth, knowing the women would follow. He presented them to a private dressing room and nodded towards the chilled champagne. Next to the pair of crystal flutes was a bottle of Blue Moon—a friendly and professional courtesy to the Italian. “I’ll be back. Call, if you need me.” With that, he left with a flourish of his arms. 

“He’s my favorite.” Jane snorted. 

“He should be after you tackled him.” Maura chuckled at the memory as she stepped behind the curtained corner. The room was modernly decorated. It had a glass top coffee table with marble coasters. Jane sat comfortably on the provided sofa and sipped at her ice cold beer, smiling as she reached for the thinly sliced oranges on the ceramic plate next to the ice bucket. 

“You yelped, I reacted. How’s that my fault?” Laughter filled the room. 

Maura didn’t respond. Instead, she was focused on the top she carefully pulled onto herself. It was made of black tulle. Jane’s earlier mesh comment was on point. The skin tight long sleeve top was sheer except for the solid black band around her chest. She was intrigued by the piece upon first glance, but she wasn’t sure if she was actually going to purchase the revealing article. 

However, with the change of her and Jane’s relationship, Maura thought she’d let the brunette decide. Their newfound relationship brought out a familiar daring and risqué feeling the blonde thought she had grown out of. Clearly, it was making a comeback and it was invigorating. 

“Jay, what do you think?” Maura pulled back the curtain and walked forward to step onto the raised platform. She looked into the floor to ceiling three panel mirrors and watched Jane rake her eyes up her body. Their eyes met in the reflection. Smouldering was an understatement.

“Maura.” Jane’s voice was tinged with unabashed lust as she stood. Her walk wasn’t so much a walk. It was more like slink or stalk. She looked feral. 

Between the platform and the heels she never took off, Maura was significantly taller than Jane. Her thinly covered, polyester bound breasts were eye level with obsidian pools as she turned to face her admirer. Jane stopped just about arms length away from her and stared. The honey blonde wasn’t self-conscious. How could she be when pure unadulterated hunger was pouring out in waves from Jane? She felt wanted. Desired and sexy. But more importantly, whole. 

“Practice with me. Yes? No?” Maura smirked at being able to throw the brunette’s words back in her face. 

“Fuck.” Jane took one more cursory glance at the scantily clothed body in front of her. She closed her eyes and inhaled for eight seconds. A smooth exhalation was thwarted as it came out ragged. 

“Jay, yes or—” There was a hand over her mouth. She could feel heavy breathing against her neck and it made her nipples hard. The temperature in the room skyrocketed and she was a little weak on her feet. Jane’s hands cupped around her leather encased ass and dragged her off the platform and onto lower ground. She was led to the sofa where Jane sat down on the edge of the cushion. Her leather skirt was yanked up as far as leather could go and she was hauled down onto an inviting lap. 

It wasn’t comfortable. Her skirt was restricting. She couldn’t properly quell the ache of her throbbing core by grinding against a toned body. Thighs were quivering from the strain of kneeling in such a tight skirt while trying to remain upright. Wandering hands were scraping up and down her inner and outer thighs. The mix of pain and pleasure had the poised doctor keening in appreciation.

But Maura couldn’t rest comfortably against Jane and it was beginning to grate on every fiber and nerve ending she had in her body. The skirt needed to come off. And it needed to come off now. The frustration was too much and her body could no longer comprehend why it wasn’t being satiated. Primal needs weren’t being met and Maura Isles was just a hot-blooded woman who needed the most basic necessity: sex. 

“Off. Take it off now, Jane.” Maura wound both hands in brunette hair and crashed their lips together. She didn’t ask for permission as her tongue met Jane’s in a duel that could’ve entertained the Coliseum. Teeth sank into a lower lip and pulled roughly. Heavy breathing and low groans echoed through the room as wandering hands were trying to touch every inch of skin as quickly and effectively as possible. 

The damn skirt was still on. Jane frantically searched for the zipper, but the high quality Swiss leather had a concealed zipper that even the CIA wouldn’t be able to find. So Jane lifted Maura by her waist and planted her feet onto the ground. Roughly turning her around, she found the sheisty zipper and pulled it down with ease. Her teeth dug into an enticing lace covered cheek and before she could rotate the honey blonde again, there was a quick knock at the door before it burst open. The squeal of shock and surprise could’ve been heard from Antarctica. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! I freakin’ knew it!” Jürgen pointed and then pumped his fist in the air and turned right back out, ensuring to shut the door behind him. Through the ornate wooden door, he made sure to enunciate loudly and with enough sass before he continued. “You may finish up, but you’re definitely buying it now. You look gorgeous, Maura.” 

Had it been anyone else, Jane and Maura would’ve been morbidly embarrassed and slightly pissed off. But they weren’t. They laughed and laughed and laughed. Maura’s eyes teared with laughter and her abs were beginning to cramp. She picked her skirt up before it could start to wrinkle and laid it flat on the glass table. Half dressed, she sat sideways across Jane’s lap and pulled her in for a sweet kiss. 

“God, he’s never going to let us live this down.” Jane used her ring finger to swipe her wet cheeks as tears of laughter kept falling. 

“Although, I’m glad it was here and not at Valentino. I’d have to start flying to Rome just to buy a new dress.” Maura chuckled. The immediate acceptance of the first person who knew about the change in their relationship was humbling. It made her feel successful. It made her feel validated and strong. Like this was how her life was supposed to be. 

“Maur, where are you going to wear this?” Jane’s eyes were glued to the exposed alabaster skin under the black sheer material. 

“I was thinking Monday morning, when we go back to work.” Hazel eyes filled with mirth.

“As long as everyone knows that I’m the one who gets to take you home.” The detective was serious, but her tone was soft. 

Maura saw and heard the confidence exuding from Jane. She could tell that the brunette was at ease and there was no hesitation with her words. It wasn’t aggressive or possessive. There was no jealousy or pent up passivity. Blatant acceptance coated every word and Maura fell just a little bit more in love with Jane Rizzoli. 

“Go out with me tonight?” The doctor’s surety stuttered. But only briefly. 

“Are you asking me out on a date, Dr. Isles?” Jane smiled. 

“Yes.” Sometimes, simplicity was the only solution. 

“It’s a date.” Jane pressed her lips gently against smiling ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put your seatbelt on kids, the next chapter is a whirlwind of debauchery.


	5. Cinq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's electric. Boogie, woogie, woogie. Hopefully. Also, sorry for the (seamlessly inserted?) dirty joke somewhere in this chapter. {Not really}. And you guys are fantastic. I love the support <3

* * *

The promise of their first official date had both women jittery. Maura wanted to properly woo Jane and asked that they go their separate ways until the blonde picked the brunette up from her condo. But it was hard to let each other go after spending nearly twenty-four hours caught up in one another. Their goodbye in the car and on Jane’s front porch and in the foyer of the condo was borderline illicit. Completely and wildly indecent. But frustratingly arousing.

Three hours. That was the total amount of time the high-maintenance doctor had to coif herself into something decent before she needed to pick up Jane. The parameters were to dress smartly and the recommended color of the night was navy. Comfortable enough to withstand being upright and standing for long periods of time, but dressed well enough to dine somewhere upscale. Those were her own words and Maura was panicking. 

She rushed into her house and took the stairs two at a time. Quickly, but with a semblance of civility, she stripped and stood naked in her closet. She stared at the litany of tailored dresses, but nothing screamed _‘pick me.’_ Her suit section was even more lackluster and the fluster of not knowing what to wear was causing heart palpitations. 

Until she saw the impulsive purchase in the corner of her closet. It was still wrapped in the quality garment bag it came with and she was almost certain the tag was still attached. She bought it during a retail therapy session and knew that she’d never have anywhere to wear it. Knew that she didn’t have anyone who would appreciate the effort—both mental and physical—it took to wear. It was daring, yet tasteful. It was perfect.

Of course it was Italian made. The Gucci hand-crocheted wool top was completely backless. The navy and ivory stitching was held up by artful laces that tied in the back—two around her neck and two around her waist. The top had a loose crochet pattern, allowing skin to show through the spaces that were left unstitched. Her excitement turned into burning arousal. She envisioned calloused and strong wandering hands not being able to still over naked skin all night. 

Pulling out the Oscar de la Renta high-waisted navy pants, she held both articles of clothing against her body and smiled in the mirror. Her confidence was sky high and her knees were shaking with anticipation. Laying both items gently on the made bedspread, she went to finish getting ready. 

A body rinse washed the day’s sun away. Makeup was reapplied and darkened. Hair was pulled up higher and tighter into a ballerina bun as to leave her upper body as bare and available as possible. With final touches, she rebelliously applied an even layer of Club Bordeaux by YSL over her lips. The dark burgundy brought out the green in her eyes and would emphasize the navy in her outfit. Maura Isles, seductress extraordinaire, hoped that Jane would finally put out the raging fire between her legs. 

Before she knew it, she was rushing to strap the Tom Ford stilettos she specifically bought for this outfit. The four-inch open toe gold heels balanced out the navy color scheme, but also made her posture more regal than before. And if she was honest with herself, it made her ass look great too. With a matching blazer and complimentary clutch in hand, Maura autostarted the Benz and smoothly backed out of the driveway. 

It was time to pick up Jane. 

Or so she thought. Traffic was atrocious as the four car pile up caused massive delays. With the help of the nearly futuristic navigation system, she let German engineering guide her through side streets. Later than anticipated, she parked in front of the condo and hung the ‘resident’ tag that Jane gave her from falsified documents submitted to the condo’s HOA. 

7:57 P.M.: Approximately three minutes to haul herself to her date’s front door. 

7:59 P.M.: She knocked on the door. 

8:00 P.M.: Maura’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped to the floor. 

Wild curls framed the natural makeup Jane didn’t really need. Toned, bronze arms were bare. The navy suit vest was tailored to perfection. It hugged every curve and there was not a shred of fabric beneath it. The hem tapered into a ‘V’ and left slivers of skin at her hips bare. Matching pants looked as if they were painted on and fashionably stopped just above the ankle. The barely noticeable pinstripes elongated never-ending legs and everything was completed with the same loafers she wore earlier in the day, but instead of black, they were cordovan. 

“Hi, baby.” Jane slipped her fingertips into the small pockets of her pants and smiled. 

Twenty-six letters existed in the English alphabet. But there are only twenty-three positions in the twenty-six letter sequence where a mathematical sequence could begin. Which means that there are over twenty-five septillion possible permutations and the doctor couldn’t think of one word to say. 

So instead, she pulled the detective in for a fierce hug. Maura closed her eyes as she nuzzled where a strong shoulder and warm neck met. Jane’s ensemble was causing her usually rational and scientific brain to go haywire. She wasn’t sure if she was going to make it through her planned date with Jane’s confidence and body blatantly on display for her viewing pleasure. Especially considering what she had arranged. 

Wordlessly, she pulled out of Jane’s embrace and ushered them out the door. When she made it to the car, she opened the passenger side door and waited. Moments passed before she realized that Jane hadn’t followed her all the way. Maura turned back and there was Jane, personified sex on legs, leaning against the front door. Her hands still in those godforsaken pockets and her hip jutted out in a stance that oozed sex appeal. _Caliente_ was the only description that came to the polyglot’s mind _._

“You didn’t greet me properly, Maura.” The detective’s voice was sinfully raspy. 

The honey blonde heard undertones of feigned offense, but she took the bait regardless. With smaller and slower steps than normal, she stood in front of Jane with arms tensely at her side. Dark green eyes met lust-induced dark ones. “Hello, Jane.” 

“You look gorgeous, but you knew that already.” Confident with a heaping tablespoon of cockiness. Jane was a force to be reckoned with and Maura wasn’t sure she was going to survive the night.

“We need to go.” Her self-control was fleeting. They needed to leave before she threw caution to the wind and marched back inside the house and tore every piece of cloth from the taller woman’s body. Maura knew her response was short and terse, but at this point, twenty-four hours of tortuous teasing was slowly clawing at every sense of decorum she believed she possessed. 

With that, she clasped their hands together and all but chivalrously dragged Jane into the car. Buckled and semi-focused, Maura opened the moonroof to let fresh air in and to hopefully let some of the sexual tension out. Wishful thinking. 

The car ride was electric. Maura saw Jane turn her body so that her back was against the passenger door and rolled her eyes as the detective shucked the seat belt behind her. Typical cop move and the doctor loved every bit of it. 

Maura nibbled at her lip as a ridiculously graceful long left leg was tucked against the back of the leather seat and rested a toned arm against the headrest. The confidence and comfort that was radiating from Jane hit the honey blonde like a ton of bricks. 

Unruly curls blew gently with the wind and Maura was having a hard time concentrating. Especially since Jane’s long arm reached over to playfully toy with the ties that held her top up. 

“Where are we going?” Jane’s fingers dropped down and lightly traced the exposed upper back that was smooth to the touch. 

“Dinner then—” Maura sucked in a breath as fingertips slipped beneath her top and grazed the side of her breast. Hands that gripped the steering wheel at ten and two were turning white as they held on for dear life.

“Let’s skip dinner. I know we’re going dancing.” Jane’s fingers continued their journey down Maura’s side. The completely backless top left so much skin bare. Tantalizing, soft, smooth skin.

“H-how?” She forced her eyes to remain open. With every downward stroke against her exposed side, thighs clenched together in anticipation and want. Distracted driving was not something the statistically aware doctor generally partook in, but extreme sexual frustration was an absolute exception. Evidently. 

“I overhead you and Frost talking a few weeks ago.” Jane removed her hand from underneath the designer top and leaned her body over the center console until her lips were against a curious ear. “You guys were talking about the kinds of dates you used to gauge compatibility.” She flicked her tongue against a diamond studded lobe. “He said concerts and you said dancing. Something about body chemistry and synchronicity.” 

“You heard that?” Maura miraculously pulled into the carpark of _Mujeres_. The bass was loud and she could feel the vibration coursing through her body. The line was long, but she wasn’t concerned in the slightest. Jane was still staring at her and they were breathing the same square inch of air. Donna Karen’s _Cashmere Mist_ that Jane sprayed against her chest was filling the hyperaware blonde’s olfactory and it was addicting. They were too close for Maura’s diminishing self-control and the generally composed honey blonde was becoming unhinged.

“Mhm. And despite what everyone says, especially Frankie, I’ve got rhythm.” Jane abruptly got out of the car and shut the door gently. 

Maura groaned. She had no choice but to follow and met her siren at the back of the car. Wrapping her arms around Jane’s neck, Maura kissed her as softly as she could. “I know you do. Someone as passionate as you has the sensuality to be adept at following body movement and having a natural rhythmic flow.” 

They unhurriedly walked their way to the back of the line only to have Maura steer them to the front. She glanced at Jane and smiled. The bouncer was a Boston PD officer that Maura had run into several times at the station and even a few times at the club. She knew he had a crush on her and the honey blonde sparingly used it to her advantage. 

With a customary nod and friendly smile, he lifted the velvet rope. The women breezed through only for Maura to notice Jane look back. She followed suit and unsurprisingly, but knowingly, caught the beat cop shamelessly stare at her ass. Her backless top and shapely backside was a jarring sight considering the fashionable, but conservative and professional, work attire she normally wore. Jane’s hand slid from her completely bare back to her toned ass. With a not so gentle squeeze, she was guided further into the club.

It was dark and crowded. The sconces on the wall provided minimal lighting to at least get them to the bar safely without tripping over anyone. There was standing room only, so Maura followed Jane as the domineering woman mushed her way through the throngs of people with their hands clenched together. Hazel eyes observed laser brown ones catch the attention of the bartender and they were served right away. 

Maura smiled as Jane screamed over the cacophony of noise for a Blue Moon and Belvedere Cranberry. She loved that the detective always knew what she wanted. What she craved. Freckled and dimpled cheeks blushed as the dark-haired woman slapped a Ulysses S. Grant onto the counter. With purposeful strides, Maura was swooped away from the bar and they settled into a less cramped corner.

Silent cheers were made between the women as they sipped their overpriced, mildly satisfactory, and slightly watery cocktails. Alcohol streamed through their blood system and glasses were left on the high top table that was unofficially deemed the mortuary for empty drinks. 

Saturday nights at _Mujeres_ was reggae night. And not the newer ‘plays on the radio until your ears bleed’ remakes that were nauseatingly repetitive and unoriginal. Nineties fusion reggae—the only era that properly mixed old school and new blood—and classic reggae. The kind of music that induced even the most uptight of people to let loose. The music itself was inherently sexual and was the perfect catalyst to propel them into a mess of arousal and desire. Not that they weren’t already halfway there.

Unbeknownst to most, Maura loved it. Loved the words and honesty. Welcomed the way her body responded and moved to the rhythm and beat. Appreciated the culture and different ways of expression. The sensuality and openness about everything was refreshing. More importantly, she especially knew that Jane loved it too. 

“Dance with me?” Maura didn’t wait for a response. She spun in Jane’s arms until her back was against the detective’s front. With ease and slight movements of her hips, she led them to the dance floor. It was flooded with people swaying, some with their arms up in the air and some with their arms around someone else. Maura stopped at a small clearing and swung one arm behind her and around Jane’s neck. Her free hand grasped Jane’s wrist and prompted it to rest across her pelvic region. 

“Move with me.” Jane’s voice was raggedly soft as she pressed her front flushed against Maura’s back and moved her hips forward to encourage the blonde to follow. Slightly bending at the knees, the brunette rolled her hips halfway down to the beat and Maura mirrored her movements. They gyrated back up to a standing position only to have Jane lead them back down and up again. 

Maura pushed her ass harder into Jane’s front and arched her back. The feeling of her love’s warm body behind her pulled her into a blanket of security and ratcheted her arousal. She could feel pert breasts pressed into her back and her eyes closed at the thought. 

The strobing of the orange hued lights made everything feel and look as if they were moving in slow motion. Her mouth opened slightly and a moan escaped, not that it could be heard over the music. Synchronized hips swayed and rolled in time with the music. Maura moved on her own, without encouragement from Jane, until she felt the barely contained dominance radiating from the brunette. It was itching to break free. 

“You feel so good, Jay.” Maura relaxed her body further and let Jane take the reins. The song changed to a more upbeat and breezy song. Nadine Sutherland was crooning about her need for tender satisfaction and the blonde mouthed the words as they rang true to her climbing libido. _My chemistry is flowing, can you cause a chain reaction?_

Maura was still in the same position, but one hand migrated to the back of Jane’s thigh. Her need to feel every move was overpowering her ability to do anything else. She swayed side to side as Jane controlled her movements with strong hands dangerously low on her hips. A slight bite of her lip as thumbs slid into shallow back pockets and pulled her closer. There was nothing but clothing separating them now. 

With every grind and slow whine down and up, Maura felt hot flashes of desire and lust burst throughout her body. It was overwhelming, but it felt earth shattering. Jane’s relentless roaming hands had her dripping and knew that it would only get progressively worse from here. She could feel the heat ricocheting within herself. 

Fingertips slipped from her back to her lower abs. They trailed down bare sides and long arms had the advantage of skimming a blazing inner thigh. The scorching inferno was becoming unbearable. Blunt nails raked harshly over clothed skin and pressed briefly against Maura’s clothed throbbing clit. 

“Turn around.” Jane whispered against her ear. 

“No.” Maura wouldn’t be able to stop so she kept up with the rhythm—as did Jane. As she lost herself in the song again, she was forcibly turned 180 degrees. Looking up at a flushed face with curls sticking to cheeks and a shiny forehead, Maura crashed her lips against compliant ones. They were still attached at the lips as Jane wedged a leg between Maura’s and wound them down towards the dance floor again. The friction was consuming, but it was the temporary relief the doctor needed. 

Both stood with their legs tangled. Maura ground her hips down with the tempo and wrapped her arms around a sweaty upper body. She used her whole body to roll up and down the lithe form attached to her front. Leaning her forehead to rest against a warm shoulder, Maura couldn’t resist grazing her teeth against a damp neck. She smiled at the immediate tilt of Jane’s head to give her more access. Closing her mouth over sensitive skin, the honey blonde nipped and sucked lightly. 

“Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.” Jane tilted her head up and closed her eyes as she blindly spun Maura in her arms, again, to resume their earlier stance. 

“Don’t stop.” Maura bit her lip as audacious fingertips crept below the waistband of her pants. They skimmed the elastic band of utterly ruined silk and the aroused blonde lost her rhythm as her hips jerked forward. But she realized the slight distraction distanced her body away from Jane’s so she undulated quickly back to her rightful place. Wantonly, she reached back and grasped Jane’s ass and pushed it forward into her.

In any other setting, they’d feel exposed and wouldn’t think twice about moving their dance to a more private venue. However, the atmosphere was thick with sex. It wasn’t just them—everyone around them had found someone to share the music with. People had lips locked with partners and the touching was similar, if not more salacious, than theirs. No one was sparing them a glance as they were too caught up in their own sensual nest. Indecency didn’t exist, just intimacy. 

“Give me the next song and I promise you, I’ll take care of you.” Jane’s fingers stopped their torturous exploration and instead trailed north. Maura hummed as she felt a hand rest flat against her belly button. The groan in her ear as she felt a fingertip swipe over the metal nestled in her navel increased her arousal tenfold.

“You make me feel sexy.” Maura was at her breaking point. She wouldn’t be above begging if the night kept the pace and direction it was currently headed in. While she knew that taking Jane dancing was a risqué move and a detriment to her sexual frustration, she wouldn’t take it back for the world. Her body was urgently demanding this kind of contact and Jane was the only one who could satiate her need.

The next song started and Maura recognized it immediately. Jane had the CD in her cruiser and every time Maura caught her humming to this particular song, the detective would blush furiously and change the track. She wondered if the brunette somehow managed to make a song request, but knew that it was impossible as Jane hadn’t left her side all night. Quite literally, they had been attached at the hip. 

_Girl, you’re my angel, you’re my darling angel…_

Maura closed her eyes as Jane’s lips trailed up and down her neck as the brunette nuzzled into her. She couldn’t decide whether or not to bite her lip or smile as Jane nipped right below her jawline. 

_Life is one big party when you’re still young. But who’s gonna have your back when it’s all done?_

Maura sank further back into Jane and just listened. She let her body be swayed and used the strong lean form behind her to keep her upright. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the wet inferno between her legs. Without a doubt, the pants and panties would be unsalvageable by the time they reached home. She wouldn’t even try to save them. It’d be a waste of time.

_You're a queen and so you should be treated. Though you never get the lovin' that you needed..._

Lyrics were hotly whispered against Maura’s ear. She understood them loudly and clearly. This was Jane’s song for her. Every word could somehow be applied to their relationship and what the detective couldn’t verbalize, the song summarized. Adoration poured out from the blonde. It was no wonder that Jane was peckish every time she was caught mouthing the words.

_She was there through my incarceration, I wanna show the nation my appreciation…_

The small smile that graced slightly smudged burgundy lips was tight. But only for a moment. She always wondered what Jane thought about that particular verse. Obviously, it had to be more metaphoric than realistic. But did it represent the times when her love was imprisoned by her own thoughts? When night terrors petrified Jane to the point of paralysis and she was the only one who could gently coax her out of the mental trap? 

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as Jane’s voice became lower and lower in her ear. Touches turned into torment.

Fuck. Maura internalized her need to curse, but she was at her wits’ end. Her body was vibrating with need and desire. The wetness that pooled between her legs was downright uncomfortable and was an incessant reminder to her sex that it hadn’t been satisfied after being torturously teased for over twenty-four hours.

“Jane…” Maura’s resolve was seconds away from crumbling as Jane continued to husk the words of adoration and love in her ear. The heartfelt serenade and sensual contact was a cocktail she would gladly swallow. And she hoped that wasn’t the only thing.

“‘Girl, in spite of my behavior, said I’m your savior. You must be sent from up above.’” Jane was hellbent on showing her dedication and love via song, which outweighed placating the writhing blonde in her arms. 

“I need—” Maura slammed her eyes shut as a warm hand brazenly crept beneath her top and cupped her bare breast from the bottom.

“‘And you appear to me so tender, well, girl, I surrender. Said thanks for giving me your love.’” With that Maura’s breath hitched as Jane palmed a full breast. She could feel the detective go rigid. The scar in the center of Jane’s hand simultaneously came in contact with cold metal and pointed arousal. 

The smaller woman was whipped around and stormy green eyes ladened with sexual frustration and pleasure met shocked darkening pools of brown.

Bold. That’s what Maura Isles became at that moment. She took Jane’s free hand and placed it on top of her other breast. The crowd had doubled in size. Warm bodies swayed around them. It created a small cocoon and allowed the sexually charged women a little semblance of privacy. 

She pressed Jane’s palms into her breasts and pushed her chest forward. The moan she released should’ve been illegal, but an ounce of self-control was gained as Jane couldn’t stray her eyes away from the breasts cupped in strong hands. It evened the playing field. 

“So, detective, have you figured out the last two piercings yet?” Maura bit her lip as she slowly led them out of the club and to her car. Jane’s hands had hers in a vice grip and she felt victorious.

The cool air was a relief, but it also made her nipples extra sensitive. Between the extreme arousal, quick change in temperature, and the way the crocheted wool was rubbing against her braless pierced breasts, the drive was maddening. The seatbelt pushed the fabric flush against her and what was a mind-blowing stimulant seconds before, was now distracting and sensorily overloading. 

“When? Where? Why?” Jane was still reeling. She would’ve never guessed in a million years that the sophisticated, severely academic, and privileged Maura Isles had twin piercings through her nipples. 

“I was sixteen and I got it done with my roommate at boarding school.” The hasty shift from explicit touches to a brief history lesson had the usually eloquent linguist speaking a mile a minute. “She said I couldn’t graduate without doing one impulsive and spontaneous thing before leaving. She pretended to be my sister, not that the piercer cared much, and before I knew it, there were implant grade titanium barbells through both nipples.” Maura breathed out deeply trying to catch her breath.

“I imagine it must’ve hurt?” Jane placed a hand over a thumping chest and shuddered at the thought of a fourteen gauge needle going straight through any part of her body, let alone a nipple.

“The adrenaline was racing through my body and I was so preoccupied and tense that I didn’t even notice he pierced through the first one. However, once my body accepted that it was happening, the adrenaline wore off. The second one hurt something fierce. It was excruciating. My back arched so high, I thought I was going to pass out.” Maura shook her head. Three decades later and she still couldn’t believe she went through with it. 

Maura pulled into her driveway, too distracted to actually park in the garage—let alone figure out how to open it. They both exited the car and walked hand-in-hand to the front door. With the door shut and locked behind them, shoes were hastily removed and they both silently glided up the stairs. Maura felt Jane lag behind her and stopped at the entryway of her bedroom. 

Deft fingers unlaced the ties behind her neck and lower back. She let the top slip gently down her front and turned to face Jane. Hazel eyes followed brown eyes as they settled on her decorated breasts. Emeralds flanked each side of both nipples and there was a matching gem nestled against a toned abdomen. The jewelry coordination was striking against alabaster skin as it made freckles more prominent. 

Maura felt eyes roving across her naked chest. Brown eyes darkened as they flitted between twin barbells to the curved ring in her navel, but finally settled on the black ink peeking out from her ribcage. Maura felt like she was on display and god, it felt good. The brunette was devouring her with obsidian eyes and she revelled in it. She had never felt sexier. Never has she ever felt this wanted. And Jane wanted her, that she knew for a fact.

Maura extended her arm out to Jane and the brunette did not hesitate to take it. A naked back hit the cool duvet and her front was covered by a clothed body. Lips met in a softness that surprised both women. The frenzy would come, but for now, they sighed together in contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Action - Terror Fabulous & Nadine Sutherland  
> Angel - Shaggy & Rayvon
> 
> Also, I hope that I got the balance of dominance and chivalry right with both women. It shouldn't just be all Jane or all Maura. A wise man told me, "Relationships shouldn't be 50/50. They should be 100/100." The wise man's name is dad. Thanks, dude.


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm. NSFW. Yeah. Enjoy.

* * *

Tongues and teeth crashed against each other. Guttural moans and groans filled the sexually charged bedroom. Slow roaming hands were turning into audacious touches. Maura’s body was overheating and shaking in anticipation. Despite being topless, the friction of Jane’s suit vest against her naked skin was sending her body into overdrive. Every nerve ending was on fire. 

High-waisted pants were restricting around her midsection. It caused the jewelry in her navel to stab against electrified skin, but she ignored the discomfort as rushed fingers unbuttoned the small closures of Jane’s vest. Each side of the garment fell open and exposed tanned pert breasts for the first time. There was no hesitation as Maura closed a warm mouth over an instantly hardening nipple. 

Strong hands tried to fist into her hair and pull her closer. Teeth grazed against sensitive skin and the hiss Jane released urged Maura to continue. The less than gentle tug of her hair had the doctor moan loudly as she pulled her lips back and sat up straight. She hastily removed the bobby pins from her bun and tossed them in the direction of the bedside table. Accuracy and aim were not a priority. She missed completely.

Jane’s trembling fingers trailed up her stomach and stopped just below her breasts. Maura grabbed shy hands and placed them atop of pointed arousal. She pushed her chest out encouragingly and leaned back on hands that rested on Jane’s thighs. Maura saw hesitation and trepidation in usually self-assured eyes. Her heart melted just a little.

“Just do what feels right. I won’t break.” Maura bit her lip as Jane’s forefinger gently swiped across the metal barbell. The jolt went straight to her core. 

“Are they more sensitive with the piercing?” Jane watched in amazement as nipples hardened right before her eyes. Every time she traced around puckered skin, Maura would grind down against rock-hard abs. 

“Sometimes, but most of the time, no.” Maura rose to her knees. She undid the hook and eye closure of Jane’s tailored trousers and pulled them down roughly. Shimmying her body down and yanking the rest of the pinstripe pants away, she couldn’t get them off fast enough. By the grace of God or gravity, they were finally on the floor.

Maura stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the beauty sprawled across her sheets. Boy shorts and a suit vest. An image that would be singed into her memory until the day she died and she wouldn't dare try to erase it.

Hastily unhooking her own pants and pulling them down with ruined silk in tow, Maura folded them in half and haphazardly laid them on the floor. She kneeled at the foot of the bed and roughly spread Jane’s legs apart. The smell of arousal aerated her bedroom and the well-mannered blonde licked her lips impatiently. 

Kisses were lined up and down exposed skin. She nipped at the skin close to the junction of thighs and a throbbing core. Unable to hold back, Maura placed an open mouth over saturated black cotton and pushed forward. Her tongue teasingly swiped up and she smiled as hips jerked. 

“Don’t tease.” Desperation tinged Jane’s voice. 

“Teasing implies that I have no intention of delivering.” Maura hooked her fingers into the waistband of Jane’s boy shorts. She pulled them down past knees before Jane took the initiative to kick them off the rest of the way. “And Jane, I plan to deliver. Several times, in fact.” 

Maura continued her kisses and nips up Jane’s body until she reached the now wrinkled vest. She tugged against the material and shucked it to the side, not caring where it landed. Her lips returned to hardened nipples and sucked roughly at the skin. She sharply grazed overly sensitive peaks and felt the urgent need to consume her soon to be lover.

Maura was losing control and she could only hope that she’d be able to rein it in before things ended prematurely.

Hands gripping the hair at the base of her scalp had Maura’s hips rolling against the quivering body beneath her. She could feel the need and desperation to be satisfied radiating through Jane’s tensed fingertips. It frayed at the remaining strands of dwindling restraint. The need to taste Jane escalated and the composed doctor was nanoseconds away from fucking her raw. 

Nips and grazes of teeth were salaciously trailed down Jane’s naked body. Stopping at the juncture between muscular thighs, Maura released a groan at sight of a perfectly trimmed mons. The near equilateral triangle was tastefully done and downright sexy. Just how she imagined. But how did she not see it before? Jane has been naked for at least ten minutes and she's just taking note of sight that's been plaguing her subconscious. Why did her astute observation allow her to overlook this _riveting_ detail? 

She hurriedly laid on her stomach and settled between parted legs. A probing tongue began to lap at the arousal that coated tan thighs and Maura moaned at her first taste of Jane. It was the only thing she couldn’t mentally or tastefully conjure when she dreamt of pleasing Jane. She always wondered and hypothesized what the Italian tasted like. But now? Her findings were conclusive. 

“Baby, please.” 

From her position below, Maura glanced up. Jane’s closed eyes and pulsating jugular vein were the first things that caught dark green eyes. Her gaze never moved from Jane as her tongue made contact with wet lips. Arousal dripped from her own sex as she closed her lips around a swollen clit. She couldn’t help but savor the taste. Maura slowly sucked and laved at different paces. She tightened her grip around bent legs and pulled Jane closer to her mouth. 

Her own moans were muffled against the wetness smearing her face and she relished in the feeling. It was hot and satisfying. It satiated her own need to witness and feel, firsthand, Jane’s physical love for her. She could smell and taste her lover all around her and it only propelled the determined doctor further in her quest to make the detective cry her name out in ecstasy. 

Swirling her tongue in tight circles against a pulsating clit, Maura zigzagged her way down to Jane’s opening. She speared her tongue through the source of Jane’s arousal only to realize that it wasn’t enough. Jane’s legs were restricting her need to have a full-range of motion and she needed more space. Needed more access to Jane and her glistening arousal. Crazed like an addict, Maura jerked back. 

Harsh movements had Jane’s legs in the butterfly position with a small gap for Maura in between. One hand spread Jane’s swollen sex apart while the other held Jane’s leg flush against the bed. With a practiced child’s pose, Maura dove back in. 

“Oh, _fuck_!” 

The forearm of the hand keeping Jane’s folds spread was used to keep jerking hips still. Purposeful circles and directions of her tongue had arousal dripping from Jane. It was loud. Messy and wet. So fucking wet. Maura kept an uneven pattern of switching between sucking an engorged clit into her mouth and driving her tongue in and out of Jane.

Her own moans and groans of appreciation as she lapped and swallowed everything Jane had to offer were acknowledged with the tightening of strong hands gripping her hair. It forced her tongue and lips deeper and harder against her new favorite wonder of the world. But the grip on blonde locks was becoming sharp and she could feel every individual strand of hair and follicle being tugged. 

Jane was close.

She pulled back from her rightful place and watched as obsidian eyes widened in shock and wanton need. Winking at furrowed brows of frustration, Maura eased her middle finger into Jane and smiled as brown eyes rolled back. She bent her head down and sucked hard at a swollen clit. 

“ _Oh god, fuck, Maura!”_

Maura doubled down and added her ring finger. Her fingers were suddenly in a vice like grip. She could barely thrust, but she used her tongue to lathe lovingly at the throbbing sex. Wetness dripped profusely onto her hand and pooled onto the sheets beneath them. The fluttering of Jane’s core around her fingers ratcheted her own arousal and she was sure that her lover wasn’t the only one ruining her thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets. 

Giving a quivering clit one last flick of her tongue, Maura chuckled as her fingers were almost painfully squeezed. She scraped her teeth up an overloaded and spent body, but kept her fingers buried in Jane. It was complete bliss to be connected to her love this way. 

Maura laid against Jane’s side and propped herself up on her elbow. She watched Jane’s erratic chest as the brunette was regaining her breath. Nipples were still wet and erect from her earlier attention and it stirred her need to have Jane again. She wasn’t sure she would ever grow tired of pleasing the love of her life. Maura couldn’t stop herself as she began shallow thrusts with the fingers still nestled in Jane. 

But her endeavours were halted by the weak hand on top of hers. 

“I-I can’t...I-I’ve never...” Jane’s mouth parted in a small ‘O’ as Maura disregarded her half-assed plea.

Maura smiled and lovingly pressed her lips against Jane’s. It was a good effort. Really, it was. But Maura knew that Jane had more in her. More to give to her. And she needed just one more declaration of love from the brunette. Just one more and she would be satisfied—as would Jane. 

She could feel the desire pouring out. But actually feel it as a new gush of wetness coated her fingers. The tightness returned and it spurred Maura on. She was determined to teach her lover something new about herself. Second orgasms were always the best. They were sweeter and more enjoyable. The overwhelming intensity wasn’t as all consuming and sharp. Waves of pleasure gently flowed versus the tense nature of the first. 

“My love, I can feel that you want me again.” With the shaky hand still on top of hers, Maura eased her fingers in and out of a dripping core. Swipes of her thumb across a highly sensitive clit helped convince her love, but also taught her that she could handle more than she thought. 

“I’m so s-sensi-oh!...tive,” Jane moaned. 

“Relax, Jay.” Maura smirked at the hard clench around her fingers. “You must really like that I call you ‘Jay’, don’t you?” She mercilessly pistoned her fingers in and out of Jane. The cacophony of wetness and Jane’s moans fueled her desire to bring the brunette over the edge again. The sound of fingers thrusting against slick skin made her persevere through the burning sensation in her arm. 

She stilled her movements briefly before she eased her fingers upwards and thrusted deeply. Curling her fingers, she applied more pressure. Her motions no longer thrusting so much as rapid pushes and taps against rough, spongy wetness. Maura smiled at herself and silently thanked Gray’s Anatomy for teaching her everything she knew about the human body. 

“Maur...baby, it’s too— _oh god oh my fucking god!”_

Maura could barely move. Her fingers were nearly immobile as Jane struggled. Crashing their lips together, she nipped and soothed. Feeling the fluttering of inner walls, she realized that tightness was getting tighter and tighter with no intention of stopping. Jane was so tense. She could see the ripples of struggle. Eyes were tightly shut and knuckles were white as they fisted the bedsheets. Her lover couldn’t let go. 

“Jane, look at me.” 

Maura felt the clutch on her fingers loosen slightly and she capitalized on the opportunity. Powering through the soreness in her arm, she ruthlessly drove in and out of Jane at an alarming pace and made sure to brush her clit at every thrust in. Her thrusts never wavered as they continued their upward motion. 

Stormy eyes locked with dark tear-brimmed ones. She could feel Jane’s release surfacing. It was burning white heat and she reveled in being the one to make the resilient brunette topple over the edge. 

“I love you,” Maura whispered. 

The sob and full-body arch happened in slow motion. Maura watched in awe, with her thumb circling softly over an overly sensitive clit, as Jane willingly took what she gave. Forty-three seconds was a long time and the doctor had to react quickly as her lover came down from her high. Tremors wracked Jane’s body and she was beginning to shake uncontrollably. 

As soon as Jane’s back fully touched the bed, Maura slowly, lovingly, and carefully removed her fingers. She did not hesitate to cover Jane’s body with hers and swung the askew duvet over them. The safety net of her body over Jane’s and the cocoon of the down material protected them from the sense of overexposure from the emotional and physical release. 

Her body wrapped around the trembling form beneath her and pressed butterfly kisses around a wet face. Wet from the exertion of their love and tears of exhaustion and satisfaction. Maura whispered soft _I love yous_ over and over again, conveying her physical message with verbal confirmations. Jane’s arms eventually found the strength to circle her back and pulled them flush against each other. Maura’s heart soared. 

“I love you more.” Jane’s voice was hoarsely Bostonian. 

“Mm, doubtful. I definitely love you most.” Maura smiled bashfully and rolled her eyes lightly. She has never played the cliché ‘no, you hang up first’ game, but found that she didn’t mind it. It made her feel silly and light. The simplicity of how easy it was to show and verbalize the smallest of confessions made her understand that Jane was truly her one and only. Her heart and brain didn’t have to clash and argue with each other anymore. They've finally come together in a mutual agreement that Jane was perfect for her. Faults and all. 

Maura was brought back to reality when her back collided with the pillow top mattress. She felt watched as a shadow casted over her completely nude body. Her nipples tightened and she clenched her thighs together in anticipation. Her eyes raked up the bronzed goddess kneeling above her. Toned thighs shined with residual wetness and red lines marred chiseled abs. Maura bit her lip at the marks of possession she’d left on her lover’s body. 

She was overflowing with arousal and it was evident as per the new wet spot on the bed spread. Maura was no stranger to demanding and getting what she wanted; when she wanted. However, the carnal gazes Jane was raking down her body made her pause. She wanted—no strike that—needed Jane to take whatever she so desired. Her body was humming and aching for her own desire to be in the hands of someone who would treat it with care and love. But also the passion it craved.

So when Jane ran a cursory fingertip over a pierced nipple, Maura closed her eyes and allowed her lover complete ingress to her body. Inside and out. A smile graced kiss swollen lips as she felt Jane close her mouth over a sensitive peak. She bit her lip as the tip of a curious tongue moved the barbell side to side. It warmed her body and settled in her core.

She tried to keep her arms at her sides to give Jane full and uninterrupted access to her body, but found it hard as exploratory flicks of tongue became confident. The sexual frustration of the last twenty-four hours caught up to her. Every teasing touch, kiss, and suggestive word hit her like a freight train. She was on the verge of dire sexual distress and it was harrowing.

“Jane, I need you.” Maura wasn’t begging. At least, not yet. 

“I need you too.” Jane’s eyes were filled with complete adoration and raw desire. 

“Please, make me come.” And the begging started. She couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of her mouth. Maura normally had the patience and stamina of a professional, but Jane has had her teetering on the brink of insanity for the better part of four years with an exponential increase in intensity during the last three months. There was only so much her mind, body, and soul could handle before it collapsed in a puddle of excruciating vexation. 

“I’ll get you there.” Soft, but confident words rasped in response. 

Maura cried out in frustration as Jane’s trail of kisses down her toned midsection stopped just at her pubis. Her hands went to push the teasing woman’s head downwards, but was met with pushback instead. She whined and spread both legs as wide as possible and bent them at the knee. Maura exposed her glistening core to a wide-eyed brunette and in hopes to entice her lover, quickly dragged her own finger across her clit. The moan of mild relief was interrupted as two long fingers plunged into her deeply. 

“ _Jane!”_ Maura’s hips jerked off the bed only for them to be held down roughly. The intrusion was welcomed, but if only fingers would just fucking move. Instead, they were infuriatingly still, but the roughness of fingertips and calloused trigger fingers created a friction her body sung for. She was at a standstill. Her internal bands of discipline and restraint were seconds away from snapping. 

But Jane started to move, albeit very slowly. Agonizingly slow. But it was movement and God, she felt like she could move the moon. The firm hand pushing against her hips was frustrating as she couldn’t dictate anything. Not the pace or pressure. Not the placement of fingers. Not even her own body’s movements. Maura was stuck and at Jane’s mercy. 

She loved every second of it. 

“My love. _Please please move. Move, please.”_

Her back was sticking to the bedsheet. Thighs were sore from tensing and pushing against the bed. Abs were burning from holding in her breath and straining against her body’s natural responses. Her chest was moving rapidly as it matched her breaths. There was a sheen of sweat across her face and down the front of her body. Her whole body was flushed and it was all rushing to her throbbing core. She felt alive. 

But still, Jane wasn’t compliant. Maura closed her eyes as the snail’s pace was setting off every nerve of frustration, but there was an unexplained fullness and pressure building up within herself that she didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure she could come like this. In fact, she normally wouldn’t be able to. 

Maura knew her body. Knew that she needed something harder and faster. And she needed it now. But white heat was coiling in her lower stomach and it was firing off small waves of pleasure through her body. The small tingling pinpricks of an orgasm were approaching and she furrowed her brows in confusion. 

“J-Jay, what are y-you doing to me?” Maura’s core clenched tightly around seemingly unmoving fingers and knew that she needed more. But at this point, more of what? In the twenty plus years of having sex and knowing her own body, Maura knew that there was no way she should be any near coming. But the pinnacle of her climax was just around the corner and she was at a loss. 

“I’m loving you.” Jane smiled and brushed their lips together before returning to her original position. 

“I need...” Her words trailed off because she was almost there. It was just in arm’s reach. 

“I’m here. Tell me.” Jane began lightly circling her clit with her thumb. Slow, almost feather-like strokes that shouldn’t have helped Maura be any near the edge. But they did. She was so so _so close._

“ _Jane_ , I-I don’t know how—” 

“Baby girl, I’m right here.” 

Maura spasmed hard. Her thighs slammed shut and trapped Jane’s hands inside. Her inner walls clenched, grasped, and tightened profusely around barely moving fingers. She thrashed her head side to side only to lean heavily against one side as the waves of her orgasm crashed through her. Her stomach rippled in contractions as she pulsed around Jane’s hand. She was completely silent. 

“One more, Maura?” Of course it was rhetorical. 

She didn’t have time to recover as Jane used her overly sensitive body to build her back up. But it was too much. Confusion still riddled her mind, but her lover was relentless. Unforgiving and inexorable. The pace, pressure, and angle was exactly what she usually needed, but now she wasn't so sure. Well, her brain was unsure. Her body, on the other hand, was a puppet to her marionettist. 

“S-slow, Jane. Go slow…” Her body was in overdrive. The brunette’s smirk should’ve been slapped off her face, but Maura couldn’t do anything besides writhe beneath the body giving her the utmost pleasure. Jane wasn’t listening to her and the headstrong doctor wasn’t sure why she didn’t have the energy, strength, or will to enforce her own words. 

“Do you trust me?” Obsidian eyes stared lovingly into hunter green. 

“Y-yes. Unequivocally.” Maura bit her lip as she felt Jane’s breath hovering over her heated core. She waited and waited. But every time she canted her hips up, she was incorrectly rewarded with quicker thrusts and a thumb swiping over her swollen clit. It wasn’t the feeling of satisfaction she yearned for—not that she wanted to seem ungrateful. 

“Tell me what you need.” Jane’s tone took a needier and demanding turn.

Focus and concentration on Jane’s words were impossible with the way long fingers were driving in and out of her. Maura could feel herself reaching her second climax of the night and she craved the fulfillment. So she thought if she kept matching Jane’s pace thrust for thrust, she’d get the orgasm she initially thought she needed. But then Jane pulled out of her. 

It left her bare. Mind-numbingly empty. Her body revolted as it clenched and clenched for something that was suddenly missing. A vital part of her need was taken away and she hated it instantly. 

Maura Dorothea Isles conceded. 

“I need you to fuck me. But please, put your tongue on my clit.” She gripped sex-mussed curls and brought a smirking face down to her center. Groans, moans, and mewls of pleasure, appreciation, and relief left the honey blonde’s lips. Jane wrapped her lips around her clit and sucked. Lightly, roughly, and with a graze of her teeth. It was overwhelmingly gratifying and she nearly screamed as two fingers eased back into a dripping opening. 

Maura clenched hard around fingers as her mind subconsciously brought her back to Jane’s new term of endearment. It made her so wet and hot to hear it spill out of the Italian’s mouth. The roughness of her voice with the twang of Boston that coated every syllable was explicitly arousing. She couldn’t decide if she really wanted to remove Jane’s mouth from where it was and have her whisper it repeatedly in her ear or have Jane continue to go down on her like her life depended on it. Maura groaned at her predicament. 

But she was getting closer and closer as the thrusts went by. She needed to hear it again. And again and again. 

“Jay, come here.” A choice wasn’t given as Maura tugged on wild curls and immediately brought their lips together. She groaned at the taste of herself on smiling lips and swiped her tongue across Jane’s to further taste the unique blend of their intimacy. Fingers didn’t stop and she abetted their journey for her release as she rolled her hips in time with Jane’s thrust. 

“Yes?” 

With Jane’s right arm next to her head, Maura felt and saw Jane use sheer body strength to thrust hard into her. Two fingers turned into three and darkened green eyes rolled back as she felt Jane give her time to adjust to the girth. She felt so full and fuck, she loved it. A little lift of her hips signaled her readiness for the toe curling pace to continue. 

Jane’s breasts against hers. Thighs sticking to thighs. Sweat commingled, creating a scent that was lovingly theirs. Lips were fused together as tongues and teeth fought for dominance. But they knew who really had the upper hand. Or possibly they didn’t. Their push and pull tactics matched point for point. They were soon to be equivalent on the orgasm scale too. Maybe it was the perfect balance of give and take. One didn't have to be more domineering than the other. They were on level playing fields. Perfectly synchronized with one another. 

“I-I’m so _f-fucking_ close.” Maura’s hand reached down between their bodies and circled her clit. Once. Twice. Thrice. But then she pulled away, realizing that she may not even need the added stimulation. She closed her eyes and remembered that she’d already come—hard—without the aid of her own hands or fingers. Jane was clearly more than completely capable. 

“Mm, you gonna come for me?” Jane had a shit eating grin on her face. 

Maura groaned at having to ask for what she needed. Especially for something so microscopic and trivial as a pet name. But the way her body reacted to it was obscene. Unexplainable and marginally embarrassing. However, she wasn’t going to start ignoring her body’s response after intently listening to its teachings about what she needed for the last thirty-six years of her life.

But this was quite potentially the hardest she has ever had to work for an orgasm. Her previous lovers always got so distracted and absorbed by her blatant sexuality that they were blinded. She’d say jump and they’d ask how high. But Jane was different. She has always been different. Jane operated on affirmations and verbalizations. Actions too, but she surmised that the long fingers buried inside of her covered that. 

“Mmhm...” Maura willed her body to come without it. She tried focusing on the in and out of Jane’s fingers and the firm press of their bodies together. She focused on their ragged breathing and the way their hips moved against one another. She was so fucking close but there was a solid wall standing between her and nirvana. 

“Yeah? When?” Jane had a droplet of sweat drip from her temple down to the side of her face and finally fell onto Maura’s shoulder. 

“Say it, p-please. I-I want to come for you.” Maybe a little ego stroking would work. Her words were failing her. The waves of pleasure prevented coherent thoughts and other methods of persuasion. 

“Say what?” Jane’s movements were erratic, but her smirk lived on. 

It was slowly becoming painful. The edging and the precipice being almost in reach. But not quite. She was going to implode from the pressure and pleasure. Wetness poured from her but none of it could satisfy her. She couldn’t fall over the proverbial cliff until Jane gave her what she needed. 

“Jane…” Maura could feel fingers confidently thrusting upwards towards that rough, spongy wall only one other person has ever had the patience to find. She clenched hard around fingers as it ferociously and relentlessly stroked that one spot with every thrust. The onslaught was earth-shattering and completely welcomed. It was all encompassing and she couldn’t comprehend the sensations. Love and raw sexual desire that melded this well together should be criminal. 

“Maura…”

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” Maura hissed. She was losing it. Maybe she wasn’t articulating what she needed, not that she could think straight. The strokes against her g-spot were short circuiting her brain and she couldn’t focus on anything but hearing Jane’s affection for her. 

“Mm, but that’s ya name. Ain’t it?” Maura could hear that she wasn’t the only one losing control. Jane’s slang was coming out to play. She knew it made itself known when the Italian was angry, excited, or drunk. Maura would have to add aroused and cocky to the list as well. 

But in this moment, she knew that Jane was not just fucking her, but fucking _with_ her. The detective knew what she was asking for. Jane knew what she needed and she was withholding it on purpose. That just wouldn’t do. Maura was more than capable of getting what she needed, especially in regards to sex. She could play dirty and deliver hits below the belt, so to speak. Jane taught her well. 

“Jay, I-I need to come. I want you to make me come on your hand. _Please, love. Please._ ” The conniving begging stage arrived and it was a moment that Maura knew to be her undoing. Jane’s blazing eyes bored a hole through her and she knew that she won. But were there any real losers?

“Come for me, baby girl.” 

And she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my wife never reads this :)


	7. Sept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will actually have a plot. I swear. And if there are more mistakes & errors than usual, I apologize in advance.

The weekend ended much quicker than Maura hoped it would. They weren’t due in the office until Monday morning, but murderers weren’t particularly mindful of their time off. The assigned ringtones for dispatch simultaneously rang and invaded their sex-filled sanctuary. Both women groaned in disappointment as they mentally noted the address of the crime scene. 

“Body up in Dorchester?” Jane flopped back onto the bed. 

“Mhm.” Maura rounded the bed to her naked lover. Straddling toned thighs became a regular occurrence for the smaller woman. She loved the closeness of just sitting and talking with Jane beneath her. Loved the feeling of strong hands that affectionately traced up and down her back. Yearned for the intimacy it incited and the lust it always induced. 

“We need to keep, at least, a modicum of professionalism.” Maura was completely serious. Kind of. She knew it would be hard to not brush an errant brunette curl away when she now had lover’s rights to Jane. Or kiss her whenever the urge arose. Or seek solace in a strong embrace when words failed to convey how she felt about her detective.

“Snowball’s chance in hell,” Jane snickered. 

But sexed up Jane was a new persona that Maura was unfamiliar with and she was having a hard time not giving into every confident admission of want and desire. Bedroom Jane was a wildly open and passionate woman that shocked the hell out of the usually prepared doctor. As best friends, Maura thought that she knew all facets to Jane Rizzoli, but clearly, she was missing out on the very personal and intimate sides of the deceptively complex woman.

“Jane,” Maura sighed and rolled her eyes. “No inappropriate touching. No kissing. No teasing. We are professionals.” 

“Buzzkill.” 

“Now get ready, please.” Maura smiled and leaned down to press a chaste kiss against pliant lips. However, as soon as Jane’s tongue swept across her bottom lip, she moaned and allowed instant entry. Maura learned quickly that it was easier to give into her insatiable lover in these little moments than deny the unrelenting woman. She found that it was a surefire way for arousal to be exponentially escalated, which pushed them into hours of sexual exploration.

But now, they didn’t have the luxury of time. Dorchester was twenty minutes away and she still needed to get ready. Gently pulling back, Maura attempted to stand only to be roughly brought down. Her already wet core ground against a naked thigh. She closed her eyes as instant arousal coursed through her body. 

Jane seemed to grow increasingly confident and dominant since the first time she made Maura come undone. The blonde learned that Jane’s penchant for pushing a suspect to the brink of collapse, thus forcing a confession wasn’t just reserved for an interrogation room. Jane loved to tease and leave her teetering on the edge until her body laid bonelessly motionless from complete and utter exhaustion. Jane’s drive to learn every detail, inside and out, blurred into their sex life. But as good as she got, Maura returned in kind. Tenfold.

“But baby girl, how am I supposed to concentrate now that I know what you taste like,” Jane growled. “And what you feel like clenched around my fingers?” 

“Jane,” Maura groaned and her eyes fluttered shut. “You can’t call me that at work. Maura, Maur, Isles are perfectly acceptable. Even ‘Babe’ would be better.” 

Maura felt Jane’s fingertips between her tense thighs and she bit her lip as a thumb brushed through trimmed hair. She couldn’t stop her hips as they canted forward. Gasps left parted lips as a rough fingertip swiped across her clit. The consummate professional in her was screaming for her to get a move on, but her dripping center was currently dictating her rationale. 

Jane ignored her silent pleas and instead, swirled a fingertip quickly over a growing wet clit. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then the pleasure was suddenly gone. Maura let out a ragged breath as she watched Jane’s tongue wrap around a wet finger and sucked slowly. The distinctive _pop_ spiked her arousal, but she was shaken out of her own reverie when Jane’s hand tapped her ass lightly.

“It’s go time.” Jane smiled at the flustered blonde. 

* * *

If Maura had to describe the drive to southern Boston, it could be encompassed in one word: _handsy._ She should’ve known better when Jane nonchalantly asked that she drive them to the crime scene. Jane hated her driving more than anything and Maura got used to being chauffeured around as the brunette’s inner speed demon raced through the streets of Boston in her Benz all weekend.

The second she got into the driver’s seat of the Prius, Jane had the audacity to lay a strong hand on her upper thigh. Roland Mouret couture had never felt so stifling and stiff before. Teasing fingertips were millimeters away from wet heat and the more she pressed against the accelerator, the more audacious Jane’s touches became. 

Maura regretted her decision to wear a dress instantly. 

Their journey started off sweet. It was somewhat appropriate. Loving and affectionate, actually. But the unsurprising Sunday evening traffic slowed their drive to a dead stop and Maura rolled her eyes at Jane’s opportunistic nature to capitalize on such a trivial occurrence. Fingertips brushed against places where they had no business being near, especially while operating heavy machinery. Bedroom Jane somehow transported from her master bedroom to the inside of her 24.6 cubic foot hybrid. 

“Jane Rizzoli, we are now at the crime scene,” Maura hissed. “Behave or _I_ _promise_ that you will be sleeping at your condo tonight.” 

She was only half serious at this point. It would be a punishment to herself too. The threat was empty and the smug face staring at her saw straight through the dramatic declaration. Maura knew that she was in for it now. But Jane certainly wouldn’t compromise their professionalism to prove a point. 

Would she? 

She knew that Jane wouldn’t overstep the boundaries of decorum and public decency to taunt her? 

Right? 

Maura gasped as fingertips slipped past damp silk and circled her entrance. She whipped her head and met playful brown eyes. 

She was wrong. 

So fucking wrong. 

Jane had _cojones_ and was proving a point as two fingers slid into her easily. The wetness from earlier never went away. Instead, it flowed steadily throughout the car ride as Jane’s teasing touches left her wanting more than they could act upon. Maura couldn't remember a time when she was this wet. Especially when she was at a crime scene. 

She erratically scanned their surroundings, but thrusts were rapid and hard. Quick and knowing. Confident and teasing. Hazel eyes couldn’t focus until they caught yellow caution tape about twenty-five feet away. But even that couldn’t hold her attention. 

Jane’s pistoning fingers had her writhing in the driver’s seat. Knees were as far apart as the compact car and her dress would allow. Her head was thrown back with her mouth parted. Eyes were fluttering shut, but never closed completely. Hands gripped the emergency brake and side door as Jane’s thumb brushed across her clit. She bit her lip to silence herself, but groans were vibrating in her throat. 

Fuck, it felt so good. 

Then she was abruptly empty. Maura was partly relieved, partly pissed, and mostly frustrated. But all was forgotten as she watched Jane lick arousal coated fingers clean and wiped the residual wetness on the inner part of her blazer. 

She was at a loss for words, but Jane wasn’t. 

“I needed to feel you. To remember. Until tonight.” 

“That was cruel,” Maura whimpered. 

The doctor closed her eyes and clenched her thighs together. Her clit was throbbing. Breathing was ragged. Maura held onto the e-break and door handle for dear life. Her dress was beginning to cling to her body and her calves were straining so hard, she was beginning to form a cramp. She was rendered completely wanton within minutes. Another novelty in the era of Maura Isles’ sex life with Jane Rizzoli.

“I’ll make it up to you later.” Jane was sincere. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” Maura breathed out shakily. “Get out. I’ll meet you there in a few moments.” 

“Kiss me goodbye until later?” Jane sounded so small. Little. Adorable. Fuck. 

She didn’t have a choice but to acquiesce. What special kind of Hell would she go to if she denied such a request? Maura lovingly stroked her thumb down Jane’s face as she brought their lips together gently. A smile was stupidly painted onto her face and she couldn’t stop it if she tried. This kind of happiness was addicting. It made her giddy. But most of all, it was effortless. 

“Now get out.” Maura laid her head back against the headrest as the closing of the passenger side door vibrated the car. She needed to get her shit together as she knew that she’d be on the receiving end of odd looks for her tardy arrival. Her staff was already preliminarily processing the crime scene, but was awaiting instructions for the transport of the body. She groaned at the sudden bout of arousal and frustration that washed over her. 

She could work with Jane in close proximity. Maura knew how to compartmentalize. It wasn’t like much had changed. Aside from the mind-blowing sex. And the fact that her tongue has been inside of Jane. Oh, and the memory of coaxing Jane into four earth-shattering orgasms in succession. Yeah, right. Not much has changed at all. 

Maura got out of the car and walked to the scene of the crime with as much dignity as a freshly fingered Isles could. Finally. She flashed her badge and stated her credentials. Ducking underneath the yellow tape, she shivered. All eyes were on her. They always were, but even as the years flew by, it was a feeling she never grew accustomed to. 

Her dress was white and collared. It was form-fitting and sleeveless. The lapels intersected right at the center of her chest and created a classic ‘V’ neck, which added to the allure of tasteful cleavage. It was a stark contrast to the officers in blue and the detectives in black or charcoal grey. Jane described it as _completely fuckable_. 

“You look lovely, Dr. Isles,” Frost complimented. 

“Thank you, Barry.” Maura smiled before crouching down on her knees to look at the deceased. 

“Brown nosed ass kisser,” Jane mocked. 

“Pussy whipped pillow princess,” Frost shot back. 

“Yeah, well last night I ate—” 

“ _Jane!”_ Maura interrupted tersely. “You didn’t last thirty seconds,” she sighed, but immediately broke out into a small laugh. Blonde locks shook lightly as she bit her bottom lip.

“He started it,” Jane whined and nervously ran her hand through unruly curls. 

“You ate _what_ last night?” Frost’s face was knowing and smug. Like he already knew, for a fact, that they had slept together. Like he could see it written above their heads. Or maybe it was tattooed across their foreheads. Perhaps a neon rainbow flashing sign instead? Yeah, that was it. Definitely.

“Uh-I-I…” Jane’s stuttering and blushed cheeks were a dead giveaway. Maura knew they'd been had. 

“You ate the Doc like groceries, huh Jane? Whole Foods or Market Basket?” Frost cackled.

Sadly, Maura has gotten used to the crude humor that never failed to transpire between her lover and her partner. It used to offend her sensibilities, but she has grown immune to the crudity. Or even worse, there are times where she finds it extraordinarily humorous. While most references still baffle her stymied pop culture knowledge, Barry and Jane have taken it upon themselves to explain all idiomatic expressions or musical allusions. Although, sometimes, Maura thought she was better off not knowing. 

“Are you talking about euphemisms regarding the quality of my vagina?” Maura quirked her head to the side. There was a part of her that appreciated the alternative form of bluntness. Her usual medical and clinical vernacular often baffled most, but the way Jane and Barry spoke to one another was almost like a foreign language in its own way. She actually found it entertaining and fascinating. Most of the time. And this was no different. Her curiosity and interests have been piqued. 

Silence. 

More silence. 

“Yes.” Frost didn’t have a choice but to answer honestly. 

“So overpriced, organic, free from hydrogenated fats and artificial colors versus…” Maura wasn’t sure how to classify Market Basket. She had only stepped foot in the New England chain twice in her whole life and both times were for Jane. They always carried the Italian’s favorite flavor of ice cream and always had more than five pints at a time. It was a no brainer to buy them in bulk. 

“Cheap, open to the general public, and pumps MSG and GMO into the HVAC system,” Jane deadpanned.

Frost’s guffaw alerted a majority of the crime techs and fellow officers. Maura smiled as he doubled over and swung his arm around his stomach. His body was violently shaking and his words were incoherent. From an outsider, it sounded and looked like he was having a seizure. Maybe a stroke? But his laughter was infectious. She and Jane joined him soon after. The mood was light and filled with deep rooted care. Like family. Jest and all. 

“You make it sound like a health code violation.” Frost chuckled and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes to wipe away tears of laughter. “I’m sorry, Doc. You know I have the utmost respect—”

“So Jane, which is it? ‘Whole Foods or Market Basket?’” Maura grinned playfully between the shocked brunette and the eyebrow raised man. 

The doctor thought she had the upper hand. She thought that she caught her lover off guard. But Jane’s demeanor changed. The taller woman uncrossed her arms and crouched down, bending at the knees. Maura felt fingers gently lifting her chin and she closed her eyes briefly—the scent of herself was still there from their earlier car escapade. Nervous eyes met confident pools of brown. She watched with anticipation as the tip of Jane’s tongue wet her lips. _Shit._

“Baby girl,” Jane paused and smirked before her voice dropped several octaves. “It’s like Eataly. Expensive and imported.” The wink was icing on the cake.

Maura’s eyes widened and they followed the length of Jane’s legs as she stood. If she weren’t already on her knees, the blonde would’ve stumbled for sure. Jane’s response was lewd and brown eyes were undressing her on the spot. The flirtation over a dead body was the thickest it had ever been and she was wildly thrown off her kilter. Frost blushed for her and was animatedly fanning himself off in solidarity. Her face burned red and she could feel her internal temperature rise. 

“Down, girl!” Frost pushed Jane’s shoulder and laughed. “Let the good doctor conduct her duties. Take a hike, Rizzoli. Or a cold shower.” 

The detectives parted ways from the shell shocked medical examiner. 

* * *

With the autopsy completed and standard tests run, Maura uncharacteristically slumped her way to her private bathroom. Her body was sore from the weekend’s activities and standing for three hours didn’t help. Had she paid more attention, she would’ve realized something was amiss as she entered her office. The methodical and sometimes anal retentive doctor _always_ closed her door when conducting an autopsy. 

It was ajar and the blinds were already drawn. 

She shut the door and slipped her clogs off. Placing them in their designated corner, she stretched out her back. Palms were flat against the floor between her feet and she groaned at the ripple of the full spinal crack that was released. Maura stood at full height and shuffled to the small bathroom near her desk. The light was on and she smiled softly to herself.

“Hello, my love,” Maura tiredly greeted. 

“How’d you know it was me?” Jane quirked her head to the side. 

“I always know when you’re near.” Maura returned the smile and lifted her arms up as Jane gently tugged the black scrub top from her body. Soothing hands pushed her backwards softly and matching pants were soon pooled at her feet. Stepping out of them, she watched as Jane tossed the clothing into the small hamper in the corner of the bathroom. 

Skilled fingers reached behind her and unclasped her bra. Lace bottoms followed and she stood completely nude before Jane. But there was nothing sexual about her nudity. The atmosphere emanated calmness and comfort. Jane turned the shower head on in the walk-in stall and gestured for her to enter. She paused before entering and met Jane’s eyes. With a tilt of her head, she waited. 

“Let me take care of you.” Jane’s voice was so tender. 

“You always do,” Maura whispered. 

She walked under the spray and groaned at the perfection of the water temperature. Of course Jane knew how she liked her showers after an autopsy. Almost scalding to wash away the odor of decomp, but therapeutic to relax her straining muscles. Maura pressed her hands against the cold tile and jumped at the feeling of the washcloth down her back. A smile graced her face as Jane’s touch was extra loving over her tattoo. 

Turning in the stall, she noticed the water soaking the small bath rug. She tugged Jane closer and pressed their lips together quickly. 

“Stay with me while I finish?” Maura didn’t need to wait for a response as she took the proffered washcloth and shut the glass door. She smiled one last time at Jane through the foggy partition before quickly finishing her routine shower. 

The bathroom was steamy by the time she shut the water off. When she opened the shower door, a fluffy white terry cloth towel was awaiting her arrival and she smiled as Jane wrapped it around her. Lips brushed against her shoulder, sensually dragging the water droplets across freshly washed skin. Maura leaned into the front of Jane’s body and breathed out contentedly. 

“You weren’t entirely professional today, my love.” There was no malice or anger in Maura’s tone. 

“Do you want me to apologize?” Jane brushed her lips across a damp forehead.

“Are you sorry,” Maura countered as she rested her arms on top of Jane’s shoulders. 

“No,” Jane answered honestly. 

Maura was struggling too. She was actually relieved that she wasn’t the only one and that they were lucky it was a Sunday night. Her personal shower with Jane went unnoticed. This time, as the lab was empty. Usually, her office was bustling with her staff asking for approval or guidance. Crime techs and Kent were in and out without notice, which barely left her time to decompress or prepare for her day. But it was Sunday and as soon as everyone completed their duties, they were gone. 

The lab was still empty and she had a bit of karma to return to Jane for her earlier stunts. 

She nudged Jane harder into the edge of the sink counter, which forced the taller woman to slink back and sit on granite. Maura let the towel drop and immediately went for Jane’s belt buckle. She deftly undid the clunky accessory and unbuttoned charcoal trousers. The tops of black cotton peaked out from the waistband of pants and Maura swooped down to lick a straight line across exposed skin. 

As abdominal muscles jerked away from her, Maura gripped hips firmly and continued her assault. Nips of teeth and flicks of her tongue had Jane grasping at her hair. The sharp tug at the base of her scalp did nothing to deter the hyper focused doctor. She roughly pulled one side of black cotton down and sucked hard at the sensitive skin at Jane’s hip. Teeth grazed and marked. A warm tongue soothed and laved. 

Maura pulled back and grinned at her handiwork. An Isles shaped mark with teeth marks was wet and angrily red against tan skin. It was a work of art and she couldn’t wait to see it darken over the next couple of days. A streak of possession washed over her and she couldn’t contain herself.

“Yours, huh?” Jane smirked.

“Is that a problem?” Maura challenged. 

“No, baby girl.” Jane ran a thumb across a blushing cheek. 

“ _Jane_.” 

Maura closed her eyes. She was naked. And wet. From her shower and Jane. The last thing she needed to hear was _that._ All day, she has felt the ghost of Jane’s fingers inside of her. Teasing her. Reminding her of all the ways that Jane could make her come. Hard and fast. Slow and deep. Rough and dirty. Loving and tender. It was hard to concentrate. But Jane was finally here and she was her natural cocky, teasing self. It drove the poised doctor mad. 

“Let me take care of you.” 

* * *

There were designer size seven heels haphazardly left on the bottom step of the stairs leading up to her bedroom. Jane tried to carry her up the staircase, but Maura’s tongue was laving at Jane’s rapid pulse point on her neck. It caused the strong Italian to lose her grip on the smaller woman, so they battled each other for the upper hand. 

Between the rough slams against the wall of the stairs and the friction of grinding against a strong thigh, Maura was surprised that no picture frames were harmed in the process of undressing one another. Tongues clashed against each other and grazes of teeth scraped down each other’s necks. Hands grasped, pulled, and tugged harshly at clothes, skin, and hair. Taunting words and salacious admissions were whispered and groaned. 

Her dress was soon flung askew on the banister and lacy hipsters were yanked down toned legs. Jane’s strong hands and aggressive nature prevented her from divesting the taller woman of any more clothing. She was at a steep disadvantage and would shortly be under the complete mercy of her lover. 

They made it to her bedroom and Jane voraciously removed the rest of her clothing. She heard the ripping of expensive stitching and groaned at the thud of a utility belt finally hitting the floor. Her back slammed against the made bed and before she could demand the removal of Jane’s sinfully low boy shorts, her legs were spread wide open. 

She hissed at the sudden rush of cold air against scorching wet heat. Two fingers plunged into her roughly and Maura’s hips shot off the bed. 

“ _Jay, fuck!_ ” 

Fingers were still and Maura growled. She’ll be damned if Jane doesn’t give her what she wanted. What she needed. The first few times were about their newfound connection. Establishing and introducing the sexual component to their relationship. But they were beyond that. Maura needed to be fucked. Hard and fast. Rough and dirty. 

“Ya know, you’re always ridin’ my ass about my language,” Jane growled. “But here ya are with your _fucks._ Why’s that?” 

“I-I can’t h-help it...” Her voice trailed off as a thumb swiped quickly over an engorged clit. She jerked her hips wantonly against stationary fingers inside of her and angled her hips up. Maura began quick thrusts hoping to quell the ache that was slowly becoming painful the more Jane remained still. 

She finally felt a minor reprieve and threw her head back as Jane began to hideously slowly drag her fingers in and out of her dripping opening. The pace would never satiate her need and she may come, but it would still leave her dissatisfied and on edge. Maura needed a proper fucking. Full-bodied thrusting and sore muscles. One that would make it a little difficult to walk the next day. 

Maura gripped Jane’s wrist roughly and pushed her hips against seemingly immobilized fingers. She ground and thrusted her lower body against a strong hand. Moans and groans escaped a parted mouth. With her feet planted flat against the bed, it allowed her full range of motion to dictate the angle and pace. It almost seemed too easy. And nothing about their sexual energy screamed easy. 

Jane abruptly pulled out of her and gripped both of her wrists in one hand. Maura could feel the wetness smearing onto her skin and she closed her eyes as her hands were roughly brought above her head. She could feel the full exertion of Jane’s strength as her arms and legs were pinned hard against the bed. While she wasn’t weak by any means, the doctor knew her limits. Jane was, by far, much stronger. 

“There’s a time and place for such language,” Maura groaned. She laid completely still. Any movement and she knew that Jane would place even more weight against her. Of course she could handle it, but she needed friction. She needed firm strokes across her clit and long fingers pistoning in and out of her. So she played along with Jane’s need to assert her dominance. Maura knew how this game worked. 

Jane pressed hard against her wrists above her head and placed a bruising kiss against her lips. It was an unspoken rule and threat. _Keep them there or I stop._ A simple rule. One she hoped that she’d be able to follow. While their sex life was in its infancy, the most important lesson that Maura learned was that Jane had more patience than she realized and her threats were never empty. 

“So you like a little dirty talk, huh?” Jane’s grin was salacious.

The good doctor’s face burned red and she averted her eyes from piercing brown ones. Maura has never admitted it before. Her vocabulary was vast and she was fluent in multiple languages, but the dirty and crass words made her wetter than she could comprehend. Her prim and proper nature was cringing, but her carnal desires were screaming. Especially as Jane’s tongue trailed down her neck and over a dusky pink nipple. 

Maura arched her back to increase the contact between her lover’s body and hers. Nipples were painfully erect and aching to be touched. The smooth grazes of pointed arousal against the warm skin above her had her biting her lip in anticipation. Maura craved Jane’s tongue running over pierced peaks and her thighs automatically clenched together at the thought.

“If I tell you, _promise_ to make me come?” She was reaching the point of no return. Desperation tinged her voice and Maura was seconds away from taking matters into her own hands. While she knew that it wouldn’t be as satisfying, the arousal was becoming unbearable. 

“Uh huh…” Jane licked her lips as she waited for an answer. 

“I love it because it’s coming from you,” Maura whimpered.

“So you want me to fuck you?” Jane raked her eyes down a freckled heaving chest. 

“Yes,” she moaned. “Fast, hard, deep…” Green eyes slammed shut as fingers were plunged deeply into her. Two fingers turned into three and the pace was ruthless. Knowing and skilled strokes reached where she has only been herself. Maura rolled her hips in time with Jane’s thrusts and threw her head back into the pillow so fiercely, the mattress sprung back into her. The more she met Jane’s pace, the deeper fingers went. She felt so full and her lover _so deep_. It was almost too much.

Her lower body twisted away from the pressure and her right cheek was mushed against the askew bedsheets. She tried to escape the overwhelming pinpricks of white heat, but her body was trapped underneath the strength of Jane’s. A rough hand pressed against her raised wrists and a solid body pushed her hard against the bed. It intensified the feeling of helplessness and the notion of being completely at Jane’s mercy brought her so much closer to the edge.

“Jay, it...it’s too, _oh God_ —I-I’m so f-full…” 

“Isn’t this what you wanted, baby girl?” 

Maura tried to pull her hips away from pistoning fingers, but was reprimanded with a borderline painful press against her clit. Her body jerked at the sudden pressure as a gush of wetness flowed freely at the pleasurable pain. 

Jane’s hips began slamming against hers, aiding the strength of thrusting fingers pounding into her. It made her sturdy bed frame squeak and headboard rattle rhythmically against the wall. Gasps and moans echoed in the master suite. The sound of fingers infiltrating wetness and the grunts of strength being exerted fueled the lust-filled fire. The cacophony of sounds were nearly pornographic and Maura was centimeters from falling. 

“So so close, love. _So close_ …” Maura slammed her eyes shut as white heat began furiously coiling in her lower belly. Dots of black and white were forming behind eyelids and her lower body began to tense. Her thighs were quivering and her calves were painfully strained. 

Scorching lips and grazes of teeth were suddenly trailing down her tense body. Maura shivered and furrowed her brows. She was seconds away from coming. All Jane needed to do was brush her thumb across her swollen clit and—

 _"Fuck!_ ” Hips jerked off the bed pushing fingertips upwards against spongy wetness. Jane’s flattened tongue circled her clit and she grasped onto the brunette’s wild mane pulling a warm tongue closer. With a rotation of her hand, Jane had four fingers buried knuckle deep inside of seemingly never ending tightness.

Between the come hither motions of fingers and the mouth laving at her clit, Maura’s body was vibrating. Jane was relentless in her thrusting and sucking. Maura could hear her arousal and feel it as it dripped down her thighs and ass. But the moment that Jane brushed over highly sensitive pierced nipples, Maura’s mouth parted and her back tensed. 

No sounds escaped as she fell over the edge. Jane’s fingers never ceased their thrusting and a mouth was sealed over a throbbing clit. The tugging of a nipple was rougher and harder, prolonging the waves of ecstasy crashing through a jerking body. Her neck strained to one side as it was pushed impossibly harder against the mattress. Hands gripped bed sheets to the point of short nails digging through the fabric and embedding crescent moons into sweaty palms. 

Veins on ballet trained feet were prominent as they tensed as if on pointe. Sweat dripped down every inch of her body, which caused strands of hair to stick to her forehead and neck. Her eyes slammed shut as the waves of her release coursed through her body. 

Moments felt like hours. Her body was shaking and quivering. Electrified chills ran up and down her body. She felt so tightly wound but liberated simultaneously. Everything was throbbing and pulsing. Her heart was pounding and tears burned her eyes. Maura’s final exhale came out in a sob. Her body was spent and she could feel herself fading in and out. 

Eventually, her body calmed. Her eyes closed and the tenseness flowed away gently. Jane was suddenly at her side and she was pulled against a furnace-like body. Maura relaxed and revelled in the moment of complete satisfaction. Emotionally, physically, and mentally. 

“I love you,” Maura whispered. 

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world reopened (prematurely, in my opinion) and I've been back to work full-time. So that means 60-70 hrs/week. This story gives me life so fear not, I will finish it as there's only a couple more chapters left. As always, thanks for reading. Stay well, friends.


	8. Huit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is T R A S H. But like the good kind of trash. Recyclables, maybe?

“How many times have you been in love?” Jane's eyes were closed while Maura’s widened with her jaw dropped. The question materialized out of thin air and the blonde was unsure of how to proceed. From previous experiences, talking about prior relationships never ended well. Someone’s ego always ended up bruised or worse, it planted seeds of doubt and insecurity. 

“Does it matter?” Her voice was soft. 

“No, but I-uh...when you were telling me about that college kid—please don’t think I’m crazy—but I saw something in your eyes.” Jane paused then whispered, “You looked sad. Like heartbreak sad.” 

Sometimes, she hated that Jane was as perceptive as she was. Maura knew how attuned to one another they were and she should’ve known that the detective would see right through her bravado. That night was an emotional rollercoaster, but she remembered the exact moment Jane was referring to. Maura didn’t want to discuss it, but she was almost certain that she knew all there was to her lover’s previous love life. It was only fair that they were on the same playing field. 

Right?

But she had reservations about rehashing a past she would very much like to leave where it was—in the past. Maura remembered the self-destructive state she was in when she had to climb her way up from the catastrophe she put herself in. She vividly remembered trying to locate the shards of herself that laid scattered and shattered all over New York. Would Jane think differently of her after finding out about Addison? 

“There! It’s _that_ look!” Jane furrowed her brows. 

Maura sighed. She sat up and leaned back against the headboard. Jane followed suit and encouraged her to assume her favorite position: straddling toned thighs. Maura wrapped her arms and legs around the warm body holding her. She nuzzled her nose in the crook of Jane’s neck and inhaled. The comforting scent of body wash mingled with Jane’s natural body chemistry calmed her instantly. 

“I had an affair.” It came out muffled against warm skin.

“You _cheated_?” Jane tensed beneath her but fingertips didn’t falter in their soothing trails up and down her back. 

“Not quite,” she whispered. “I was the mistress. I had an affair with a married woman.” Maura held her breath. 

“When?” Jane’s voice was so hard to hear.

“New York.” She hadn’t been back to the City since she left almost a decade ago. 

“Was it serious?” Jane anxiously bit her lip.

“I needed her to breathe.” 

Maura squeezed her arms and legs tighter around Jane. The jagged scars of a dark time were being pried open and Jane’s words singed every exposed nerve. Her chest felt like both ventricles solidified into concrete and as she sagged against the strong body beneath her, concrete began to burn. Insult to injury was the least of her worries. Jane’s silence was deafening and it poured malden salt into the now wide opened wound. Maura was waiting for the inevitable flight response. But it never came.

“What happened?” Jane pulled her closer and snuck hands underneath the stolen Red Sox t-shirt. 

“I wasn’t enough.” 

Hazel eyes were brimmed with unshed tears. She hasn’t cried over Addison since meeting Jane, but the redheaded surgeon was no longer the root of the pain. Addison was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. The cruel and abrupt ending that caused residual damage that stuck to her like phantom limb pain had nothing to do with her former lover. Not at all. 

The ingrained inadequacy that slapped her in the face every time she thought back to the tumultuous affair was her downfall. 

She remembered the meager effort and energy given to make her a priority. The stabbing words of _I don’t love you enough_ plagued her self-worth. Addison’s _you’re not worth my marriage_ shattered the iron-clad armor Maura hand-crafted and when it ended, iron turned into rust. But what happened to the rusted iron after repetitive exposure to corrosive elements? It disintegrated. 

“Did she tell you that?” Jane brushed her lips softly against quivering ones. 

Blonde waves swayed as Maura nodded. The vitriolic words were supposedly for her benefit. To make the breakup so excruciating that it could assuage any and all guilt. Instead, it infiltrated every fiber of her sense of self-respect and causticly altered her perception of herself. Thoughts and confessions whispered during the most intimate of times were recklessly and maliciously thrown back at her. Nothing was held back and everything was used against her. 

Maura used to replay their encounters over and over in her head. She wasn’t, by any means, a masochist, but in these moments, being anyone but herself was a reprieve. She thought of things that she should’ve said. Things that she should’ve refuted. She should’ve stood up for herself and held her ground better. She should’ve been stronger. 

But when the anger, embarrassment, and devastation dissipated, all that was left were memories that degraded every sense of self she possessed. The sacrifice of her own emotional and mental well-being for a couple of endearing words and shameful fucks haunted her.

“You’ve never talked about... _her_ before.” 

“Do I know all there is to Jane Rizzoli’s love life?” It meant to come out snarkily. Annoyed even. But there was no venom in her retort. Maura’s voice was soft. Barely there. She didn’t have the energy for defensiveness. Not that she really wanted to use it against Jane. 

“Yes,” Jane replied simply. 

Maura sighed. She already knew the answer to what should have been considered a rhetorical question. Jane has always been open about the lack of romantic or intimate relationships she had over the course of her life. Maura remembered hearing about Johnny, the ‘very cute’ high school boyfriend from the picture on the beach. And the drunken one night stand while Jane was in the academy. But those dalliances? They were less than memorable. 

There was Gabriel Dean in the earlier parts of their friendship. She was very grateful for not having to show him her _tits_ , as Jane suggested. However, at that point, Maura had nothing but a growing respect and admiration for the unruly brunette.

Then Rafael Martinez appeared a few years later, tremendously in 3-D, to blatantly flaunt their past relationship in everyone’s faces. But even then, Maura couldn’t fault him for bragging about ‘scoring’ Jane, so to speak. Chauvinistic and full of machismo she could deal with. 

But when Casey Jones swooped in and out of her detective’s life as he pleased? Maura was more livid than she had ever been. The conscious and continuous disregard of Jane and her heart brewed a violent and aggressive response within Maura. Nonetheless, she picked up the carnage he left behind each time he chose a warzone over Jane. 

So yes, Maura had a complete background and history of Jane’s love life. But, in this moment, she wished she extended the same courtesy to her lover before they became involved. Intimately.

  
And despite her ability to talk about anything and everything relating to sex, Maura had never been completely forthcoming when she took a raincheck on their standing Friday dates for actual dates. Jane automatically assumed that Alex, Charlie, Sawyer, and Quinn were male. But not once did she correct her best friend. The relationships never amounted to anything beyond satisfying an itch that only women could scratch, so she chose not to disclose or correct her detective.

But Addison was different. Difficult, actually. 

“I never told you about her because I didn’t want you to think poorly of me.” _Partial truths._

“I helped you harbor a fugitive wanted by Interpol, Maur,” Jane laughed lightly. 

“Jane,” Maura huffed. 

Blinded by regret and insecurity that washed over her, Maura couldn’t hear the implied _I love you for who you are and everything you’ve done._ The concept of unconditional love was foreign. More foreign than any country she’d ever traveled to. The idea was as far fetched as her parents remembering to call on her birthday. She was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing this good lasted. Maura knew that firsthand. 

“I love you, Maura.”

“But, is that enough?” 

“Have I done something to prove otherwise?” Jane’s voice was laced with love and challenge.

There was no screaming. No tears. At least, not yet. The bedroom wasn’t filled with tension. Instead, the atmosphere ebbed and flowed peacefully. Both women were speaking with calm, even, soft tones. They were wrapped around each other and sought comfort in one another, despite the contentious conversation. The support was reciprocal. Jane was so goddamn understanding and loving. 

“No,” Maura sighed. Eyes downcast. “You haven’t.” 

“Don’t mar what we have by someone who didn’t appreciate and love you for you.” Jane’s voice was tinged with conviction. 

“I-I’m sorry.” Maura brushed her lips against accepting ones and ran her tongue softly across Jane’s bottom lip. The mood shifted instantly. No more words about it needed to be said. Everything was understood. They both knew where they stood and how much they meant to one another. Years of learning each other’s love language and processes created an impenetrable foundation for their growing relationship. 

“Now that I have you all amenable, you wanna tell me why you were never _completely_ honest about your dates with Alexandra, Charlotte, Sawyer, and Quintessa?” Jane’s prideful grin was knowing and the wiggling of dark eyebrows only added to the accusation.

_Shit._

_Fuck._

_Damn._

“I-I,” Maura paused and collected herself. She sighed in defeat. “How, on earth, did you find that out?” 

“Alex was a dead giveaway. You kept using ‘they’ instead of he.” Jane pulled her closer. 

“Oh.” That’s all Maura could come up with. 

“But Charlotte, Sawyer, and Quintessa?” Jane snorted. “Ma saw each one of them grab your ass and/or shove you against your front door. Can’t say that I blame them, but you remember my ma, right? She lives in your guest house?” Jane’s laugh was infectious.

“Oh my God.” Maura was briefly mortified. But she had to give Angela a lot of credit for not bringing it up to her. Obviously, gossiping with her daughter was a different story. 

“So? Got anything to say for yourself?” Jane quickly turned with Maura in her arms. 

“I plead the fifth.” Maura closed her eyes as her back made contact with the mattress. 

“Nice try,” Jane whispered against her lips. 

Barely there touches of lips trailed down her neck. She felt the heat of Jane’s breath over worn cotton covering her braless breasts. Relaxing her body and giving into her lover, Maura welcomed the weight of Jane on top of her. She felt safe. Loved. Calm. Protected.

“It was just sex.” 

“Oh gimme a break, baby girl,” Jane snorted. “When has that ever stopped you before?” 

“It’s silly, Jay,” Maura whined.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jane laid her body alongside a smaller one and draped her long limbs over a tense, unsure doctor.

Maura groaned. She wanted the bed to transform into a blackhole and swallow her whole. The esteemed doctor was embarrassed and she could already predict the shit eating grin that would be gracing her lover’s face as soon as her secret was out. It was one thing for them to finally end up together, it was another thing for Jane to find out how long she’s been pining away for the Italian. 

“We just established the routine and expectation that when you stayed at my place, we slept in the same bed.” Maura sank further into the mattress, hoping that it would make her invisible. “I didn’t want to lose the closeness or your arms wrapped around me.” 

“Now, why is that silly, pretty girl?” Jane smiled softly. 

“It makes me _feel_ silly.” 

“Please don’t ever shy away from me.” Jane’s voice was sincere, but strong. 

“I promise.” 

* * *

The change in their relationship went unnoticed, but nothing had really changed. The small touches in public and around family weren’t new. In fact, when they tried to tone down the affection, everyone called them out on it. Today was no different. 

Angela’s concern that they were having another argument was the loudest. Maura watched as she interrogated Frankie and Nina until their ears fell off. She laughed as she witnessed Angela trying to convince Frost to spill the beans, but he played it off as if he didn’t know anything. It wasn’t until she was cornered in the main house kitchen that Maura cleared the air. Bluntly, as usual. 

“We’ve been having intercourse,” Maura stated. “For a while now and we didn’t want to make a big deal about the change in our relationship.” 

Angela just stared at her with the world’s tiniest smile painted onto her face.

“I realize now that we should have told everyone, formally, but--”

She gasped for air as Angela squeezed all of the oxygen out of her slim body frame. Her body gave in and relaxed as it allowed the Rizzoli matriarch to lift her up and spin around. When feet were planted firmly on the ground, Maura felt two strong kisses; one on each side of her cheeks. She shook her head to reorient herself and glanced in Angela’s direction.

“From your body language and previous gesture, I can infer that you are elated about the change in our relationship?” Maura’s face was flushed. Too much excitement and quick bursts of affection for the usually reserved doctor.

“Don’t tell Janie I know, I want to scare the shit out of her.” Angela waltzed out of the main house and to her side of the property.

Blonde eyebrows furrowed and Maura nervously bit her bottom lip. What the hell did she just do and should she tell Jane?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short.  
> Next chapter will be longer and fun-er.  
> Global Reminder: Wear a damn mask.


	9. Neuf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can't spell stressed without desserts.

* * *

Sunday family dinners have grown quite a bit since the early days when Angela and the Rizzoli siblings barrelled their way into Maura’s life as well as her home. Between Tommy’s own family, Lydia and TJ, and the addition of the Boston PD family, weekly dinners were more than the small family affair they once were. Korsak and Kiki, as well as Frost were permanent fixtures on Sundays, which expanded the guest list. Nina and Frankie came as a unit and wherever Angela was, Cavanaugh wasn’t too far behind. 

There were signs of the Rizzoli family all over her property. The interior nor the exterior were safe from knick knacks or born and bred Bostonian paraphernalia. Her pristine Beacon Hill residence was now home to a “tasteful” Red Sox flag that Maura fought the neighborhood association for rights to display. While she normally wouldn’t ever use her status, as Chief Medical Examiner _and_ an Isles, to influence others, the disappointment that graced the Rizzoli siblings’ faces when she was forced to take it down caused the principled doctor to pull intricate strings to get her way. 

The three sets of puppy dog eyes didn’t really give her a choice. 

But, there was a room in the blonde’s house that failed to meet her exceptionally high standards of organization. Maura’s master suite had signs and DNA of Jane all over the place. The bottom two drawers of her solid mahogany armoire were filled with folded jeans, t-shirts, tank tops, yoga pants, and undergarments _before_ they got together. The disorder of those two drawers used to drive the immaculately organized and meticulously calculated doctor insane. Maura would fold and reorganize constantly only for the clothes to be crumpled and remixed. 

The left bedside table was no better. A frayed wire charger laid haphazardly on the glass top side table, which housed a naked Chapstick tube in the middle of the coil to prevent it from rolling onto the ground. There was a near empty tub of Aveeno moisturizer and a well-loved paperback copy of _Crime and Punishment_. Maura had offered to get her a décor matching basket to store all personal items, but Jane refused as it would ‘disrupt her nighttime mojo.’ How could she argue with that? 

However, the master bathroom screamed Jane’s presence the loudest. The wooden paddle brush that was consistently left on the marble countertop was matted with curly brunette hair. Maura loathed the cheap hair tool and knew that someone with Jane’s hair should avoid using one at all costs. Jane hated cleaning it and every time she brushed her hair, strands of hair that could collectively create a wig littered the sink area. In almost a decade of living in her Boston home, Maura has gotten her bathroom sink and bathtub drains professionally unclogged more times than she’d like to admit or count. 

Maura Isles, professional organizer and germaphobe extraordinaire, loved every second of it. The Rizzoli’s, but especially Jane, filled her once cold and dull life with character and spontaneity. She used to find comfort in order. Maura craved the feeling of structure. But Jane showed her that straying from routine, every once in a while, didn’t catastrophically alter her life. Coloring outside the lines of perfection gave her a thrill and liberty she didn’t know existed. 

She jumped at the sudden body that moulded itself behind her. Arms snaked around her waist and the solid body at her back trapped her against the kitchen island. Fingertips roamed up and down her bare thigh and eventually, a hand made it upwards to cup her breast. Rough, worn cotton brushed harshly against a pierced nipple. With her chin tilted down, almost touching her chest, black framed glasses fogged intermittently. Maura let go of the knife and shivered as it clattered against the marble island. 

Jane was awake.

“Good morning, my love,” Maura whimpered. 

“It’s Sunday,” Jane stated. 

“Astute observation, Detective.” Maura lifted her head and laid it back against Jane’s shoulder. She craned her neck towards one side as soft kisses mixed with sharp nips were peppered up and down sensitive skin. Jane was feeling particularly amorous and Maura’s body should’ve been exhausted. But as rough and knowing touches ratcheted up her arousal, she couldn’t help but respond. White knuckles gripped the edge of the island and she arched her back into Jane’s body. Breakfast could wait. 

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up,” Jane breathed out. 

“Your mother will be here in two hours.” 

“Two hours is a lot of time, baby girl.” 

Maura groaned, but knew that when it came to their sex life, regardless of how new it was, two hours would never be enough. It has previously never been enough and the evolution of their relationship changed Jane’s status from morning grouch to tenacious lover between the hours of 5:00 AM to 8:00 AM. There were too many times that Maura thought they could squeeze in alone time before her internal 6:00 A.M. alarm, but was embarrassingly mistaken when it was all of a sudden 8:49 A.M. and Kent called to inform her of lab results. The calls always went unanswered as her mouth was busy elsewhere. 

Quick hands made work of lifting her t-shirt above her breasts and wandering fingers trailed above the elastic waistband of lace. She summoned all her will power to resist and shockingly found it when she jerked away from her lover’s body. Her back was suddenly cold and she missed the warmth instantly. 

“Later, darling,” Maura pleaded. Her eyes kept glancing at the vegetables to be prepped and other Sunday dinner items that littered her kitchen counter. She wished nothing more than to indulge Jane, but knew that Angela could make her appearance at any time. Maura has been dreading this specific family dinner as she was unsure of the chaos Angela would incite after finding out about hers and Jane’s newfound relationship. Her nervousness and trepidation outweighed her desire and love for Jane. Just this once.

“You look nervous,” Jane stated casually.

“W-what? No, I don’t. It’s just a _normal_ Sunday dinner.” Maura tried to brush it off. She hoped that her demeanor came off as nonchalant and calm, but internally, she was screaming. The normally elegant blonde shifted her weight from one foot to another. Her dominant hand’s forefinger and thumb went to twirl the ring that would have usually been on her left middle finger. But to no avail, her finger was bare and the ring was in the ceramic dish atop of her armoire. 

“Uh-huh…” 

Behind polycarbonate lenses, Maura observed Jane as tanned forearms laid flat against the cold marble countertop. Hazel eyes trailed down naked arms as they flexed from Jane pushing her weight against the hard surface. Concentration became a struggle. She was transfixed on the beauty in front of her, despite the murky waters Angela may have in store for them looming on her mind. 

“If we’re quick with prepping, maybe— _just_ _maybe_ —we have time for a bath.” A compromise. To hopefully quell the calm before the potential storm.

* * *

Theoretically, in a perfect world where Jane’s hands weren’t magnets for Maura’s ass, meal prepping would have gone smoother and they would’ve had time for extracurricular activities. Unfortunately, every reach for a cabinet and every bend at the waist, in front of the fridge, caused a five to seven minute delay. Jane was insatiable yet adorably clingy. Every direction Maura went, Jane was barely half a step behind her. When stationary and chopping vegetables, Jane kept her company with arms around her waist and lips below her ear. It was a miracle she still had all ten fingers and not a bandaid or trip to the ER was necessary. 

Unforeseen delays curtailed the possibility for an amorous afternoon, leaving them barely thirty minutes to get ready. But thirty minutes turned into a twenty minute high stakes game of keeping the hell away from each other and as always, Angela was ten minutes early. Maura, luckily, had her outfit preplanned and was able to answer the door in record time. 

Angela and Cavanaugh waltzed into her house with non-perfunctory double cheek kisses and hugs. She has grown accustomed to the greeting and is eternally warmed by the parental affection. However, Maura visibly froze as the train of people entering her house did not stop at Cavanaugh. The stranger before her was tall. Approximately 6’1”, short dark hair, and he wore a shirt that was designed to let people know that he worked out. Was it really that cold in her house? 

“Sabatino Talucci, but you can call me Tino.” 

Maura’s face burned red, but minded her manners. She met his extended arm with hers only for her back to become rail straight as his lips touched the back of her hand. Looking around for Jane, she found the eyes of an ashamed and guilty Boston PD lieutenant instead. The words _I’m sorry_ were mouthed to her and suddenly her heart dropped. Angela came to start a fire. A very very green fire. She even brought her own accelerant and in that moment, Maura sure as hell knew that even a fully staffed Boston Fire Department wouldn’t be able to extinguish the carnage Jane could unleash. 

“I have to go…” Maura paused. “Uh...upstairs. Please make yourself, uhm, comfortable.” 

She took the stairs two at a time and quietly closed the master bedroom door shut behind her. However, Maura took one look at the comfortable brunette on her bed and the distress weighing her down ebbed for nanoseconds before it came back in full force. The deep inhalation was supposed to help her garner the courage to tell her girlfriend about the shit storm Angela just brewed, but it settled in her chest and got stuck. 

“Jane.” Maura wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. 

“Is that Ma and Cavanaugh? I’m starvin’,” Jane complained.

“Jane, there’s someone else here.” She bit the inside of her bottom lip. 

“Oooo, Frankie and Nina beat Ma and the old man?” Jane chuckled to herself. 

“There’s a Sabatino Talucci in my living room.” Maura rushed the words out of her mouth and she’d be surprised if Jane actually understood her. Hands clenched and unclenched. Her nerves were making short nails dig crescent moons into her palms. Eyes were cast down, afraid to look up until she heard the low, feral voice of her lover. 

“Excuse me?” 

Jane shot up from the bed and stomped towards her. Maura automatically spread out her arms to block her love from trying to open the door. It was a ridiculous effort as the deceptively strong woman could easily move her without struggle. Maura pushed all her weight against the door and met obsidian eyes raging with fire. She wasn’t sure if she should be frightened or incredibly aroused. The lack of experience with a jealous or protective Jane, now that they’re lovers, has made her unprepared. Yet, from the small display in front her, she was positive that she’d eventually need to change her underwear or step away to temporarily take care of the problem herself.

“Your mother brought him over. Sean apologized, if that helps.” Maura slowly lowered her arms and cupped Jane’s cheeks instead. Thumbs softly stroked red heated cheek bones. She felt the tension deflate and for a moment, she could relax. 

“Did I ever tell you about him?” Jane groaned and looked up at the ceiling as if the solution to all her problems would materialize out of thin air. 

“I know that you both grew up together.” Maura softly pressed butterfly kisses up and down a strong jawline. It became a calming technique learned after a particularly grueling case. Jane just melted into her and the rigidity within the stressed detective floated away. Maura smiled softly to herself as her lover folded her tall body into her shorter frame. Jane slumped against her and huffed out a breath that ruffled the ends of blonde hair. This was definitely the calm before the storm. 

“He’s got a type,” Jane grumbled out. 

“Tall, beautiful, brunette, detectives?” Maura was hopeful. Wishful, even. But knowing Angela? She was about to be dead wrong.

“Ha, funny one. Tell that to all the chicks he banged in his garage.” Jane did let out a chuckle. So maybe all chances of civility weren’t gone. Until she continued. “Blondes with green eyes and an amazing ass are his type.” 

Well. 

Shit. 

“Jane,” Maura sighed. She had to come clean now. “I told Angela that we’ve been having intercourse.” 

“And Ma still brought Dickhead here?!” 

Hands were emphatically in the air and Maura watched as they frustratingly gesticulated. The anguished contact of palms meeting denim covered thighs echoed in the bedroom and Maura pursed her lips together as Jane let out her frustration and annoyance. However, she was impressed that Jane dismissed her disclosure to Angela, despite the conversation they had about the Italian not caring how, if, or when they told other people. In fact, Jane didn’t want to tell anyone, but she didn’t want to hide it either. No changing how they interacted with each other. No second guessing what was appropriate in front of people. Just be together as naturally as possible. She called it “Detective’s Exam 2.0” and wanted people to figure it out on their own.

“Mhm.” Maybe nonverbal, noncommittal answers would defuse the situation. 

“Alright, game on.” Jane pressed their lips together quickly and gently pushed her to the side. Before Maura could turn around, Jane was bounding down the stairs. 

She really hoped that there was enough pinot gris to get her through the night. 

* * *

By the time Maura made her way downstairs, makeup to perfection, Jane was in the living room chatting with Tino. The blonde observed Jane and her body language. She looked so carefree on her corner of the couch. One arm was resting on the tops of the cushions and the other nursing a Blue Moon against the armrest. Long legs were spread wide and she looked completely at home. Maura smiled to herself as she admired the lips sipping a Blue Moon being effortlessly.

She didn’t get the chance to go towards Jane or say ‘hello’ as Angela all but dragged her into the kitchen. Her favorite wooden chopping block was in her usual work station. The Wüsthof eight-inch cook’s knife was set to the right of her board, just how she liked it, and the vegetables were waiting for her in a stainless steel colander. Maura sometimes forgot that this was her life now—people remembering her idiosyncrasies and taking the time to make sure it was to her standards and liking. Angela always remembered her favorites, which is why she couldn’t understand the riot inciting invitation to a man Jane would eventually want to curb stomp in the gonads. 

“How do you like those knives?” Angela asked. “I’ve been thinking about splurging on a new set.” 

Maura furrowed her brows. Out of all the things the Italian matriarch could have brought up, she wanted to talk about her seven year old knives? Talk about incendiary behavior. Nonetheless, Maura picked up her knife and began meticulously slicing the tomatoes and basil. 

“Why did you bring Sabatino?” Might as well get it over with. 

“I told you, _stellina._ Just a little sparring with my eldest.” Angela ceased her chopping and cupped the blonde’s freckled cheeks. Her hands were a little damp from the spinach, but Maura found it endearing regardless. She just didn’t understand what Angela was trying to accomplish. But if there was anyone who could keep up with Jane and simultaneously piss her off, it was definitely Angela Rizzoli. 

“You know he’s going to hit on me, don’t you?” Maura narrowed her eyes at the woman she thinks of as a mother. 

“ _Si, stellina._ But he knows I’ll slap the shit outta him if he goes too far. Let me tell ya a secret.” Angela raised her eyebrow and nudged her head for Maura to come closer. “He’s got a boyfriend. I think he’s bisexual, but he’s datin’ a man. So that means he’s gay, no?” Jane obviously got her hand gestures from her mother.

“No, it means that he’s bisexual. But I digress. Jane doesn’t know?” Maura scrunched her nose. 

“He came out long after she moved to her own place. She doesn’t care anyways.” Angela smirked at her knowingly. “Clearly.” 

“Oh my god. He’s in on this, isn’t he? Why?” Maura closed her eyes and realization hit her straight in the gut. Jane was in for quite a surprise and joke when she finally figured everything out or when everything eventually exploded. She can only pray that everyone else, who wasn’t Angela, wasn’t aware of what was about to happen. And if they were and didn’t tell Jane? Well, they’ll have to deal with her wrath. That’s on them.

“He and Jane used to torture the shit outta each other in high school. I knew he wouldn’t be able to pass this up.”

“B-but they hate...each...other?” Perfectly shaped and filled brows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh _,_ _mia stellina,_ they hate each other so much they love each other. Sure, they grew apart. But the respect and care? It’s still there. I know it is.” Angela gave her a double cheeked kiss and nudged her head in the direction of the still unchopped vegetables and fruits. 

* * *

Dinner rolled around quicker than Maura thought it would. Angela was right, despite Maura’s hesitation to believe that everything would be fine. Jane, Frankie, Tommy, and Tino were all shoving each other around as if they’d been doing it for decades. Which in this case, it was the truth. With natural ease from years of practice, Maura and Angela began setting up the formal dining room.

Before moving a dish or getting tablecloths, Maura and Angela worked around each other as they somewhat struggled to latch and stabilize the new extendable dining room table the doctor purchased to compensate for the large Sunday dinner guest list. Their struggle did not go unnoticed and Maura instantly felt an unfamiliar and large shadow behind her. She let out a patient breath and counted to three. The scent of Giorgio Armani wafted into her nose and had it been anyone else, in a different time of her life, Maura could confidently appreciate the cologne. She’d have verbalized it too. 

But she loved the smell of unscented Dove and Jane more. That’s what drove her wild and calmed her simultaneously. 

“You needa hand, babe?” The artful language and accent of South Boston was evident in a deep voice that was _not_ Jane’s. Or Frankie’s or anyone else in her familial circle. 

“No. Thank you.” Thank god for the final latch clipping into place. By the time she stood to full height and turned, there was an oversized hand softly holding her waist. She braced two hands on a strong chest to steady herself and pushed against the hard surface lightly. Backing away quickly, Maura forced a tight smile. “If you’ll excuse me…”

With the chaos that normally ensued when setting the table, Maura and Angela were able to get everything into the dining room without any Rizzoli siblings losing fingers by trying to steal a bite of food. As always, Angela and Maura sat at the heads of the table. Their _spouses_ sat to their left and the others filled in as usual. However, there was one odd man out. Tino opted to sit to the right of Maura, which irked Frankie, as that was _always_ his spot. And it has been for almost eight years. But the sharp look from Angela, made him roll his eyes and sit next to his sister instead with Nina following suit. Maura began to sweat. 

A quick grace, led by Angela, was said before food was passed around. When every dish was passed to Tino, his fingertips grazed hers in a presumptuous and overly friendly way. His wink went unnoticed by Jane, who was too distracted by the five pound plate of lasagna and side of parmesan cheese in front of her. Maura forked her salad with a little too much force and the metal tines scraped against bone china. Everyone jumped and looked up at her. 

“Sorry, sorry. Eat, eat. _Manciàrti_.” She smiled and was internally relieved when everyone went back to their side conversations and plates. Angela’s beaming smile at her did nothing to calm her nerves.

“So Maura, do you gotta boyfriend or somethin’?” Tino wiped his mouth with the lemon chiffon colored cloth napkin on his lap and leaned back comfortably against the chair. His smile was suggestive as was the rest of his demeanor. The lack of subtlety hit everyone like a freight train. The discomfort was felt and evident across the table.

The aggressive clatter of a fork and knife against the edges of Jane’s plate echoed in the now silent room. Everyone froze mid bite and all side conversations were abruptly halted. Frankie’s eyes went wide and Nina had her hand over her mouth. Korsak’s face turned tomato red and Kiki tried to zen her way through the impending storm. Angela smirked while Cavanaugh just shook his head and tried to drown himself in the sauce on his plate. Frost snorted and tried to cover it up by coughing and Maura could do nothing but watch as everything unfolded before her. 

“What the fuck are you gettin’ at, Talucci?” Jane took a hearty sip of beer before she leaned more than halfway across the table on her forearms. There were centimeters between Jane’s arms and the plate sitting precariously in front of Tino. And in Jane’s world, the use of a surname was equivalent to pulling the pin from a grenade.

“Janie, watch your language at the table, would ya?” Angela rolled her eyes and tried to contain her mirth. Maura could see the nervousness creeping into Angela’s body language as Jane became more and more incensed. 

“Butt out, Ma,” Jane groused. “And Tino? Keep your mouth shut, if ya know what’s good for you, _capiri_ _?_ ” 

“I’m just trying to get to know your gorgeous friend here, Janie.” Tino winked at Maura, which made her burn red from embarrassment. If Tino didn’t rein in his attitude and behavior towards her, Jane would surely make him oblige to the general principles of decorum. 

“Her name is _Doctor_ Maura Isles, _minchia_. She’s Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and she can bury your stupid ass six-feet under if you don’t shut the fuck up.” Jane set both elbows loudly onto the table and shot harsh looks at her lover and mother to prevent them from reminding her to mind her table manners.

“Well, _Doctor_ Isles, would you like to get a drink with me tonight? After dinner?” Tino reached over and trailed his thumb over Maura’s hand grasping the wine glass stem for dear life. His forefinger traced up her arm and—

“Sabatino Talucci! _Stàtti_! I will _not_ stop these cops from putting your dumbass in a ditch.” Angela started to fidget. She could see the childhood competitiveness coming out to play. Had she made a mistake? Did she underestimate the rivalry that still ran deep, almost thirty years later? Maybe Sean was right...

A chair scraped against hardwood floors. Maura winced and knew that there would be a gouge in her hardwood floor, or at a minimum, a severe scuff. Jane stood tall. The veins in her neck and forehead were pulsing. The feral look in her eyes and demeanor screamed fight. Rage was emanating in waves and hitting everyone square in the face. But no one got up. They were all resigned to the fact that Tino asked for it. Antagonized her. Poked the bear, so to speak. 

“Clearly, this is a sign,” Tino smiled. “Why don’t we find some place more private to get to know each other?” He stood and held out his hand for Maura. 

The horrified look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find words. None came so she looked at her dinner guests for help. Frankie and Frost shot up from their chairs as quickly as they could while sitting properly in high back seats with cloth napkins on their laps. Their loyalty to Jane, but the protection over her were in full swing. She really hoped that she wouldn’t have to get her medical bag from the Prius. 

Tino sized up the situation. He glanced at Angela who just shrugged. But the Italian male in him couldn’t back down. Not to his childhood frenemy who bested him at almost everything and anything. While he wasn’t interested in Maura, though she was totally his type, it was the thrill of getting under Jane’s skin and the satisfaction that he was able to unnerve her that pushed him to continue. If he were honest with himself, Maura was collateral damage and he’d apologize when things settled down. Which would be in like four generations. 

“What do ya say, babe?” Tino stepped closer to her and went to pull out her chair. 

Maura sprung up as soon as Jane pushed Tino into the wall behind her. His muscular body slammed into the plaster, making a hole where his shoulder collided with structure. Jane’s forearm went straight against his throat with enough pressure to make his face turn red, but not entirely enough to make him lose consciousness. Maura tried to pull Jane back, but knew that her love was in detective “tunnel-vision” mode. Nothing could or would separate Jane from her target until physically removed. She knew that she didn’t have the strength, but she had the power of persuasion.

“My love, you need to let go.” Maura ran her hands across the tops of Jane’s shoulders and down her sides. Her voice was so soft and while she was sure that Tino could hear her, it may be beneficial for both parties to draw a known boundary. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I love you.” 

Pressure lessened and Tino took a huge gasp of air. His arms wrapped around Jane’s wrists and instead of it deterring the detective, it put her fight response into overdrive. With a blink of an eye, his arm was twisted behind his back and his front was slammed against the wall. Jane used Tino’s arm as leverage to hold him tighter and harder against damaged plaster. His grunts of pain and frustration were heard, but ignored by Jane as well as everyone in the room. 

“ _Ascolti, puttana._ _Chissenefrega!_ Are you jealous?” Despite his position, Tino didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Pride was blinding him and made him unable to see the severity of the situation at hand. But he continued, “Jealous that I can hit it where you can’t?” 

Jane’s voice turned from angry and impatient to matter of fact and awe-inspiring, but the incendiary clipped tone never left. And despite the hostility and cold food, Maura would categorize this night as a defining moment in their relationship. She could hear the sincerity and devotion coat every word. This specific declaration from Jane erased all doubts she ever had and any doubt she could ever have. 

“She loves me. Wholeheartedly and without hesitation. She has to know that I love her just as much, if not more. So am I jealous, Tino? No, I’m not.” Jane exhaled hard. Her fists clenched harder against his rigid body that was three seconds away from going straight through the wall. Her voice got lower and was tinged with threat and danger. “But I’m seething with rage that you thought you could walk up in her house and disrespect her like that. In front of her family, no less. And in front of a bunch of armed cops? Who the fuck do you think you are and are you fucking stupid?” 

Maura watched as Jane didn’t give him an opportunity to respond. She bum-rushed him out the front door and slammed it shut—inches away from his face. With as much poise and grace she had left in her, Jane sat down in her rightful place next to Maura and continued to eat her cold lasagna. Everyone followed suit, albeit shell shocked and uncomfortable. The rest of dinner was eaten in silence. 

* * *

The blowup between Jane and Angela wasn’t nearly as catastrophic or explosive as everyone thought it would be. In fact, Angela realized her violation of boundaries, with the forceful coercion from Sean, and apologized. Profusely. Jane, surprisingly, basked in the moment and took advantage of her mother’s apologetic gestures. The brunette asked Angela several times to repeat the phrase _I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that_ and the faint words of _can I get that in writing_ may have been said, but the blonde wasn’t sure. Maura rolled her eyes as she cleared the table and began cleaning up the kitchen. 

As mother and daughter hashed it out in her living room, she overheard Angela express her excitement for their relationship. She nodded her head in agreement as Angela said that Jane should have told her, in person, but understood not wanting to make it a big deal. They hugged it out and left each other to finish up their Sunday dinner routine. Mother and daughter duo would probably need space from one another, as they always did after an argument. A little bit of avoidance from each other, for the next few days, would do them well. 

Eventually, Maura’s house reverted back to its spotless standard prior to the night’s Sunday dinner. The Rizzoli’s and Co. trickled out slowly as Maura turned the dishwasher on and shut the kitchen light off. At this point, she would normally join Jane on the couch, but there was something that caught her periphery every time she glanced around the room. With slow steps, she walked to her side of the now truncated dining room table and ran the pads of her fingers over the cracked plaster on the wall. Little white particles and dust crumbled under her fingers and fell against the baseboard. 

She could see where his shoulder roughly met the wall and the damage was much deeper than she thought. It must’ve been when Jane rigged his arm behind his back and pulled to coerce compliance. Maura has never experienced someone defending her honor in such a physical manner. However, no lover of hers has ever been provoked like that either. And if they were, they never fought for her. Instead, they told her to take it as a compliment and they used it to boost their ego that they had a dime piece on their arm. 

Maura has never met anyone like Jane. She has never loved anyone like Jane nor has she ever been loved by someone like her either. Maura was in awe of how openly and unapologetically Jane loved her. She only hoped that she was returning the sentiment just as fiercely. 

“I’ll fix it tomorrow,” Jane whispered. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call some—” Maura jumped as arms made their way around her waist. She was still facing the wall as Jane’s body moved hers closer to the damaged structure. Eye level with the shoulder shaped fraction, Maura stood completely still as Jane’s hands pushed her flush against the cool surface. 

“Let me repair the damage, Maura.” Jane laid her forehead against the back of Maura’s head. The height difference was stark as heels were taken off and Jane was naturally inches taller than her. Hands trailed from resting on her stomach to grazing the backs of her thighs and gliding up to settle on her ass. Maura’s eyes closed on cue and she tried to lean back against the solid body behind her. 

“I feel compelled to apologize, but I’m not—” Maura bucked towards the wall as Jane deftly unbuttoned designer slacks and slid her hand down to rest at the waistband of white lace. Fingertips teasingly edged in and out of the tops of her underwear. Her hands needed something to hold, but all she had was a damaged wall. She reached behind her and grabbed purchase of any part of Jane she could find. Jane hissed as nails dug into the backs of her thigh. 

Maura was spun around and Jane pressed her harshly against the wall. The back of her head sunk slightly into the hole in the wall and Maura breathed out heavily. She was hesitant to open her eyes, fearful of what she would find. If Jane looked as feral as she sounded and as intense as she was acting, Maura knew her knees would give out and she’d melt straight through the tiles beneath her feet. 

Before she could make her decision, hands grasped the backs of her thighs and lifted. Maura’s automatic response was to jerk in surprise and simultaneously wrap her legs around a strong, yet lithe body. Her neck craned up as teeth and tongue lathed and nipped at her neck. She tightened her legs around Jane and loosely wrapped her arms around unstrained shoulders. The solidity of the wall made holding her up effortless, but the friction between her legs, growing from keeping herself upright, was wreaking havoc on her arousal. 

She needed to be horizontal, on a soft flat surface with Jane above her and inside of her. And she needed it now. 

Maura raked her fingers through curly brunette hair and briskly pulled. She crashed their lips together and took advantage of Jane’s parted mouth to run her tongue along the roof of her mouth. The moan that came from her somewhere deep within her propelled Jane to get a better grip of her body and pull them away from the wall. Jane tasted like Blue Moon and comfort. Fuck, she couldn’t get enough. 

“Let me walk,” Maura moaned. “Stairs. Dangerous.” She crashed their lips together once more. This time, Jane got the upper hand as she flicked her tongue against Maura’s and pulled their already impossibly close bodies closer. Between the inner seam of the blonde’s pants and Jane’s solid body, a temperature rising friction made her throb with every step the brunette took. 

But Jane stopped in her tracks right before reaching the first step. At this moment, Maura felt a shift in the atmosphere. It was the same air Jane gave off when she had Tino shoved against the wall with his arm pinned behind his back. Possession and controlled aggression. Challenge and contempt. Had she done something wrong? Is Jane angry? 

“Maura,” Jane paused. “Do I look weak to you?” Obsidian eyes bored into hazel ones with an intensity she was sure could ignite a fire. 

“No, but—”

“Have I ever let you fall before?” Jane took the stairs slowly, but confidently. 

“No, but—”

“And do you think I’m going to start now?” She nudged the master bedroom door open with her foot and stood at the foot of the bed with Maura still in her arms. 

“Obviously, not.” Maura laughed lightly as she brushed their lips together softly. 

Jane set her down gently and backed away a couple feet from the bed. Maura watched as observant eyes took in every inch of her body. Her breathing was quick and her chest was reddened by arousal. Painted toes were pointed out of habit as she rested her weight on her hands. Her head tilted slightly to the side and she crossed her legs, though a bad move on her part. 

“I’m struggling with something,” Jane confessed. 

“Mmm, what is it?”

“I can’t decide if I want to show you how much you mean to me,” Jane breathed out deeply and paused. 

“...or?” Maura knew. Jane’s body language and facial muscles were seconds from becoming unhinged. She knew what Jane wanted. What she desperately needed to convey. 

“Or show you who you belong to,” Jane stated. 

“That wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” Maura crawled to the edge of the bed and kneeled. She waited for Jane to meet her halfway. 

“But that sounds so fucked up.” 

Maura could see the conflicted emotions flicker across a troubled face. Jane’s deep rooted respect for her autonomy and sense of individualism as well as independence weighed down her need to assert her dominance. To possess and show ownership. But Maura wasn’t a damsel in distress. She knew she didn’t need someone to save her and she was confident in her self-worth to know that no one owned her. Maura knew that she wasn’t an object to be displayed and shelved. 

But to be owned and possessed by Jane? That was a different matter in its entirety. Nothing Jane wanted was to be considered taking. Nothing Jane needed was in an effort to stifle her. One cannot take something that is given willingly. Jane cannot take what Maura is giving to her freely. It was her God-given free will to do what she knows to be right. Nothing is to be taken or possessed so long as she wills it. And in this case? For Jane? 

“Take what you need because I’ll give it to you. Whatever it is, it’s yours to keep. You cannot take what I give to you freely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank everyone for their patience. This update took waaay longer than I hoped. But alas, there's only two chapters left. The next one picks up where this one left off (ahem) and the last one will flash forward to serve as an epilogue of some kind. You're all rockstars for staying on this writing rollercoaster with me.
> 
> Side note: If you live in the United States and are eligible, please VOTE. And wear a goddamn mask.  
> Side side note: If you're on Tumblr, be my friend? [colossalsharks]


	10. Dix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Optional read, no plot. Sorry not sorry.

* * *

The discomfort of knowing that rumpled pants inevitably left deep wrinkles didn’t phase her as Jane yanked them off and tossed them so roughly, the bedroom curtains whooshed loudly against the wall. The metal closure and belt clanked and clamored as fabric fell to the ground. Jane’s onslaught was quick. Record-breakingly fast. Maura didn’t feel like the delicate flower she always thought Jane saw her as. The impulsive, audacious touches and borderline filthy words being whispered in her ear nearly put her body into paralysis. 

The stretching and ripping of fabric stitches could be heard as Jane stripped herself of clothing, leaving both of them in a panting, naked mess. Bed sheets were already pulled from their respective corners as Jane’s struggle and desperate need to undress her became the only priority. The moment Maura gave her lover the green light and ingress to her body, Jane pounced. 

“Turn around,” Jane demanded. 

“W-what? Why? I want to feel y—” 

Maura yelped as her body was forcibly turned. Jane’s sheer strength was on display and Maura was sure that it wouldn’t be the last time she’d see it or be the object of its focus. An arm hooked around her pelvis and pulled up while the other hand pushed her upper back down. Her cheek dove straight into the mattress and a small gasp left parted lips as the crumpled sheets almost drowned her. Finding the strength to prop herself up on her arms, Maura breathed out raggedly as Jane ran blunt nails down the backs of her thighs. Her legs spread automatically at the sensation and the throbbing in her core increased to a blood boiling pounding. 

Possessive marks up and down her thighs and over her ass were angrily red. The fine line between pain and pleasure was something she noticed that Jane liked to toy with. Maura became accustomed to the sensations and on certain occasions, craved the roughness. It was the sexual balance of testing her limits, but never excessive. She trusted Jane. Maura knew that Jane would know when to stop and how much she could take. 

She was so lost in the new sensations, she failed to realize that Jane unfolded herself from a sweaty back. Instead, the brunette detective was on her back—face lined up with her dripping sex. Maura craned her head down and from the space between her breasts, she watched as Jane took in the sight. Swollen and wet were the only things that came to the eloquent blonde’s mind. 

Maura felt Jane’s arms hook around her thighs and tilted her head down. She held her breath and closed her eyes. Her body tensed and waited for the first touch of tongue or lips. She waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Need something, baby girl?” Jane glanced up and winked. 

Actions spoke louder than words as Maura lowered her hips onto a waiting mouth. The moan that tumbled out of loose lips was illicit. Absolutely pornographic. She couldn’t believe how wet she was and how much she needed this. Hips rolled against the stationary tongue Jane gave her and she used it as if that was its only purpose. Maura couldn’t hold a steady pace or rhythm to save her life. She was too worked up and Jane kept changing tactics. 

She’d flatten her tongue when hips rolled slowly up and down. If her body jerked, Jane would tense her tongue and focus the tip against her pulsating clit. And every so often, Jane would yank her hips down to tease her entrance with knowing flicks and her nose nudged where Maura needed her the most. The lack of consistency was driving her wild, but wetness kept dripping down her thigh and surely onto Jane. 

“Jay, please,” Maura whimpered. 

The smirk against wetness was infuriating. As much as Jane loved to make her come, she loved teasing her even more. The thrill of hearing Maura beg and ask for mercy was something that stroked Jane’s ego and built confidence. But when Jane gave in, the blonde was grateful. 

“You love me, yeah?” Jane pulled back from wetness with a loud smack. 

“T-that goes without sa— _oh god, fuck!_ ”

Jane plunged her ring and middle fingers inside. No warning, no hints. But she didn’t move. Maura groaned in frustration. This was Jane’s game. Her shtick. Give her partial satisfaction, but make her work for it. Maura’s arms gave out and her upper body slammed into the bed. She rolled her hips to gain some kind of friction, which only minorly worked. But Jane held her still. The blonde couldn’t do anything but wait until her lover was ready. 

“You gonna answer me, Maur- _a_?” 

“I love you,” Maura huffed as she rolled her eyes. She burrowed her head deeper into the sheets. Who knew Jane Rizzoli would be such a conversationalist and a tease in bed? 

“Hmm, doesn’t sound like you mean it.” Jane pressed a light kiss to her clit and her eyes slammed shut. 

“The love I have for you is immeasurable.” Maura felt exposed. Physically and emotionally. Her legs were splayed open for the taking and she could feel the cool air hitting her molten center. The stark temperatures made her body shiver, but so did disclosing matters of the heart while being dangled above Jane’s mouth. She has never been this candid with anyone. Let alone during sex. 

Fingers moved steadily in and out of seemingly never ending wetness. Her strangled cry of relief should have been embarrassing, but it went unheard on deaf ears. Jane became hyper focused on her pleasure. Maura couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the motions of fingers and tongue giving her what she needed. Her hips began to jerk back and forth and her thighs were tensing under Jane’s arm. Abs clenched as white heat coiled in her lower stomach. Pinpricks were crawling up her arms and down to her legs. Jane’s fingers could barely move as Maura’s inner walls gripped so tightly around them. 

“Come for me, baby girl.” 

The gasp was the last sound that came out of her mouth. Fingers plunged deeper and remained there as Jane’s tongue lathed tight circles around an engorged bud. Hips jerkily connected with a warm tongue and didn’t stop until the ripples of pleasure ebbed and flowed. Maura’s body was quivering and she felt like the air stung with every contact it made with her skin. 

The oversensitive blonde was gently turned over and covered by a warm body. Curly ends tickled her chest and Jane brushed her lips around a sweaty, red face. Lazy kisses tasted like her. She loved how much Jane enjoyed her. How she reveled in the taste. The feel. Words of love and affection were given as tokens of appreciation. The aftercare was one of Maura’s favorite parts of their sex life as it always confirmed and verbalized the physical act of love. It made her feel whole and validated. And she knew that Jane was going to stay the night and be there in the morning. There was no better way to fall asleep or wake up.

“Give me a second, darling,” Maura whispered. “I need you too.” 

Jane’s smile never ceased to light up her world. With sex mussed hair and a slight sheen to her lips and chin, Maura couldn’t control her need to return the favor. Two or three more times, if Jane allowed it. When they first started having sex, guilt used to eat away at Maura. Jane was much more giving than she was receptive to receiving. It left her with an uncomfortable feeling of inequality and inadequacy. While she knew that Jane’s experience with sex wasn’t extensive, she just assumed that she had a high sex drive despite the inexperience. Some nights, that was the case, and she absolutely took advantage when she could. Other nights, Jane liked to be the sole provider of pleasure.

But nights like tonight? She let Jane take and enjoy what she needed or wanted. Maura learned when to push and when to take what was given. They’ve been through too much trauma for her to be ignorant about the ramifications of those experiences. She understood, more than anyone else, that Jane has survived more than anyone should have to endure. 

However, when Jane left her post-coital aftercare, Maura pouted as she watched her lover strut confidently into her walk-in closet. Hazel eyes raked down the naked backside of tan, olive skin that was on display for her viewing pleasure and her eyes only. She watched as Jane reached up for something and immediately bent down after rustling with her shoe boxes. With furrowed brows, Maura observed Jane pulling something up? 

Maura couldn’t stop staring. Lips were parted and she was honestly surprised that drool didn’t drib out the side of her mouth. Before her was Jane in sinfully short black boxer briefs. Almost similar to the spandex shorts she wears when they run in the summer. They were tight and looked so soft, Maura was wondering if she should make all of Jane’s hipsters disappear and replace them with these instead. But that wasn’t the star of the ensemble, which was a damn shame. Dark purple silicone protruded from black briefs in an eerily natural way that made the medical examiner ask herself whether or not she believed it was actually attached to its wearer. 

“I—where—when?” Maura sat up and swung her legs out of bed. Orienting herself to be immediately in front of her lover, she placed soft hands on cotton covered hips and kissed up Jane’s stomach.

Fingers threaded through her hair and she was pulled away firmly from warm skin. The sharpness at the nape of her neck caused hazel eyes to dilate and turn stormy green. Lips and teeth crashed against each other as Jane pushed Maura back onto the bed. It was clumsy and rushed. Unpracticed and new. The way their bodies moved against each other had to compensate for Jane’s new addition. The impatience could be felt by both women, but Maura felt Jane go rigid in her arms. 

Her arms were roughly brought above her head and Jane pinned her to the bed with fabric covered hips. The briefs rubbed against her sensitive skin and the abrupt pressure from silicone against her clit had her bucking against the solid body above her. With each of her wrists in Jane’s hands, Maura felt the weight of Jane pressing down into her. Calves wrapped around the backs of Jane’s thighs, which spread herself wider for the intrusion she’d gladly welcome.

“Tell me what you need,” Jane rasped. 

Maura’s eyes rolled back as the tip was teasingly ran up and down her slit. The barely there swaying of narrow hips seemed to know exactly what to do. The motions were slow—adjusting to the weight and compensating for the lack of sensational direction. But Jane was adaptable. Maura had no doubt that Jane would find her rhythm before the night was over. 

“You.” 

“I’m right here.” Jane slid her hips down a few inches and Maura relaxed her body. 

“Inside, Jane,” Maura whined. “Please, please, _please, inside_.” 

“Have you earned it?” 

The anticipation was grueling. She tried to lower her arms. Tried to gain a semblance of control back. Maura was growing impatient. How was she supposed to remain calm and patient when Jane had _that_ between her legs? Sure, they talked about it. Maura really thought that she would be the one doing the purchasing and thinking of the miscellaneous details. But clearly, she was wrong. Jane took initiative and bought it on her own volition. 

“I-I—yes?” Uncertainty laced every word. 

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Jane slid the length between wetness and rocked slowly into Maura, coating silicone. 

Frustration was building. Arousal was blinding. Maura wasn’t sure how much more she could handle. The slippery friction between her legs was making her drip onto the bed and she wanted nothing more than Jane to slide deeply into her. To feel Jane around her as they fucked. Hands free to do as they pleased and lips ready for when she eventually fell over the edge. She hasn’t had the chance to come like that with Jane and God, she was ready for it. 

Maura dipped her hips downwards and caught the tip of the toy. Hazel eyes met brown before Jane swiftly slid the rest of the way inside. Her mouth dropped open in silence. The shock of the intrusion, but the foreignness of being filled by Jane in this way was incomprehensible. The stillness was for her benefit, she knew that. To adjust to the length and girth. She hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, her body wasn’t accustomed to pounding she was about to receive. Seconds passed and she could feel herself becoming a little lightheaded. The blood rushing to her swollen center was propelling her into a euphoric state. 

She tightened her inner muscles and rolled her hips. Jane was so tense. The grip on Maura’s wrists was almost uncomfortable and she knew that any longer, there’d be a handprint bruise on both sides. She made fists with her hands to let the blood flow and Jane let go instantly. Arms loosely wrapped around the strong shoulders and she pulled her lover flush against her. Breast to breast. Belly to belly. It forced Jane deeper into her and the throbbing became incessantly uncontrollable. 

“Do you like it?” Jane grunted as she rammed her hips forward. 

The bed shook and her body followed the natural momentum. Breasts bounced and her grip around strong shoulders tightened. Maura hiked her legs up higher and around the middle of Jane’s back, causing the brunette to slip deeper inside. The mewls of satisfaction were unabashed and loud as it spurred her lover on. She hadn’t seen the ridges on the toy before, but she could feel them now as her sex swelled and gripped around it. 

Jane was becoming more and more confident with every thrust. Maura needed to find a brief moment of clarity so she could actively participate, but Jane’s full-bodied movements were wildly distracting. Eventually, Jane slowed, which Maura thought would be her reprieve. Until slow meant slowly and deeply grinding into her. Every grind in and up brushed her clit. Every grind down and out hit that sensitive spot inside her. She could do nothing but meet Jane thrust for thrust or apply equal amounts of pressure with every slow, deep roll into her. 

“Maura, you know what happens when you ignore me?” Jane nipped at her bottom lip. 

“No, no, Jay, _please_. I-I—Jane Rizzoli!” Maura slumped back against the bed as Jane abruptly pulled out. The tip of the toy was resting against her clit. Stationary. Unmoving. Taunting her. Teasing her with what she could have had. Maura watched as Jane adjusted her position and sat on her heels. Silicone proudly stood to attention and was wet. Shiny and so very wet. The groan got stuck in her throat. She was choking on it, actually. 

Jane embraced the dominant role and Maura was in for it now. She couldn’t stop watching as Jane held the base of it in her hand and rolled her hand up and down. The slickness was heard and she could feel a gush of new wetness drip onto the bed. Jane tilted her hips down and purposefully ran the head of the toy between soaking lips. Hips jerked up and Jane punished her for it with a hard slap against her clit. The warmth of silicone almost matched her own body temperature, making it feel as if it were really attached to her lover. 

The small show Jane was putting on for her utilized all the self-control she had left. Her upper body shot up and arms swung around lithe shoulders. Maura used a combination of yoga strength and the self-defense tactics Jane taught her and flipped them over. Jane smirked up at her and she wiped it off as their mouths met in a frenzy. Stealthily, she reached back and stroked Jane—only to find that the toy was somewhat connected to Jane as well. A raised eyebrow met playful brown eyes. 

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Jane laughed. 

“Mmm, where did you find this?” With that, Maura sank down completely and exhaled just as deeply. Her body was lustfully adjusted to the intrusion and she began slowly rolling her hips. With every downstroke, she could Jane feel tightening around the small end of the toy. The resistance felt between both them was earth-shattering. 

“The Internet,” Jane grunted out. 

Scarred hands gripped her waist and guided her motions. Hips worked hard and fast for two minutes only to slow down. They kept that rhythm up until Jane was shaking with adrenaline. The slower pace clearly wasn’t what she needed, but Maura was waiting for direction.

She knew that she’d be able to come with Jane beneath her. If it wasn’t for the toy inside of her, it would be something else. Jane’s roughness with her body. Jane’s moans and groans of satisfaction. Everything about Jane would make Maura come undone. But the blonde knew that her lover needed something more. Knew that Jane needed to satisfy her in a way that she hadn’t before.

Slow grinds turned into hard, quick rolls of her hips. Jane’s thumb was circling her clit just the way she needed it. Her movements were jerking and she got a sudden feeling of fullness. She wasn’t sure if she could handle this. Blood was rushing throughout her body and it felt like it had no place else to go. Her body became still and the hands that were mapping Jane’s nude upper body gripped the bed sheets underneath skewed pillows. Maura felt like she was going to split in half. 

“ _I-It’s too much_ ,” Maura sobbed. She raised her hips and began to lift herself off of Jane. She needed a moment to calm herself. Just a second so that her mind could reconcile and catch up. The flashes of white heat were overwhelming. Tears welled in her eyes and against her boiling body temperature, they were colder than normal. Her chest was heavy with a weight that felt like it was going to burst. She knew that she wasn’t in pain, but something had to give. 

“I don’t think so,” Jane panted. 

Strong hands bruisingly gripped her waist and pushed her flat against the bed. Legs were splayed open and bent. Jane nestled between tense legs and lined herself up with a dripping opening. A small thrust tapped the head against a sensitive clit. Legs tried to slam shut, but Jane held both knees down. Another small thrust had an inch inside of Maura. 

“May I take what has been given to me?” Jane asked, specifically in the grammatically correct way. 

“I—” 

“Yes or no, baby girl?”

Maura slammed her eyes shut and clenched around Jane. That damn pet name gets to her every time. She had to remind herself that she asked for this. Jane could have been making slow, sweet love to her right now. But she specifically asked for Jane to take what was hers. Maura tried to relax her hypersensitive body, but knew that it was no use. She was Jane’s for the taking. 

“Yes, _fuck, please._ Make me come.” 

Jane plunged the rest of the way inside and Maura swore she saw stars. The pace was fast and brutal. She tried to shy her lower body away from the pressure, but Jane was much stronger. Her legs were already sore as were her back and neck. Sweat profusely dripped onto the bed and she was sure that wasn’t the only thing. She hooked her calves behind strained, muscular thighs tried to meet her lover thrust for thrust. The bed was creaking and her breasts bounced with every inward stroke. 

But when Jane lifted her leg to rest on a shoulder, the dam cracked. Hazel eyes shot open and limp arms roughly wrapped around olive shoulders. The guttural groan released was one for the books. Jane’s thrusts got quicker and harder. Maura got wetter and wetter. Jane’s pace eventually succumbed to the resistance. 

“D-Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move,” Maura chanted. 

Jane jerked to a halt. 

Maura’s eyes slammed shut and her hand went straight to her clit. One, two, three rough swirls and her body contorted inwards. Jane buried herself to the hilt and took over circling a throbbing clit. Maura’s grip on Jane tightened and her cries of ecstasy turned into sobs. Her body jerked violently against the sticky frame above her. Soft _I love yous_ were whispered hotly against her ear as she clenched and pulled against the toy still inside her. Minutes passed before her body calmed, but Jane was still frigid. Tears escaped and ran down her face. The emotional and physical high was almost debilitating. Almost. 

“Keep going, I can take it,” Maura whispered. 

“No, baby. It’s okay. You did so well.” Jane scanned her face and saw the tears, blotchy cheeks, and dazed eyes. 

Maura smiled as Jane pressed barely there kisses along her jawline and down her neck. Tired arms pulled thick, sweat matted brunette hair back and forced Jane to look at her. She bit her lip before pressing an open-mouthed kiss against dry lips. Maura’s tongue begged for entrance and she moaned when Jane’s tongue met hers. Languid kisses and wandering hands had Jane’s hips moving slowly back and forth. 

The rhythm was different. Completely different than what she felt before. But then Maura remembered that it was also attached to Jane—physically inside her as well. That thought alone had her wetter than before. If that was even possible. Maura gyrated her hips to match the swallow movements of her lover. She looked up and moaned as Jane was intently staring at purple silicone rhythmically going in and out of her. Disappearing with every thrust. 

It was her turn to help her lover along. 

“You feel so good,” Maura moaned. 

“Fuck, you have no idea,” Jane rasped. 

“Tell me.” 

“I can feel every breath you take when I’m inside of you,” Jane groaned. 

Her thrusts were getting quicker and more shallow. No longer was Jane propped up on her arms, but laying completely against the body beneath her. Maura dug her nails in a toned ass and pushed Jane harder into her. Thrusts became deep grinds and rotations of the hips. Jane’s breathing was ragged against her neck as a wet face nuzzled against her ear. Maura bent her knees slightly to allow space for her hand between their bodies. 

Fingertips dove right past the waistband of black briefs and she moaned as she brushed against warm, sticky silicone. Her middle finger found an engorged bud. Maura circled a swollen clit and felt the jerky movements directly inside her. The cause and effect sent her into a frenzy and ignited her determination to make Jane come. 

Maura knew that the pressure was perfect. The counter-clockwise circles against Jane’s throbbing clit and the soft flicks on her tongue against the spot just below her lover’s ear sent Jane into overdrive. Jane’s hips were pistoning in and out of her and before she knew it, Maura was on the precipice of falling over the edge again. She felt raw. Almost too raw to continue, but Jane needed her. Really, really needed her. She’ll run them a bath afterwards. 

“Baby,” Jane choked. 

“It’s okay, my love,” Maura encouraged. 

“I’m gonna—” 

“I know, darling. I know.” Her words were soft and soothing. 

“I lo—” 

“Come with me, Jane. I love you.” 

And together, they fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will flash forward a few years. Thanks for reading, friends.


	11. Onze: Épilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One down for the books. Your words of support and encouragement carried me to end of my first writing journey.

* * *

It stung. The vibration brought memories—good and bad—crashing into her. Nitrile gloves and paper towel brushed and dabbed at fresh blood. Fluorescent lights beamed down at her as she laid, in just a bra, against worn leather. Fitted jeans and designer heels adorned her lower half, with her feet comfortably dangling off the chair. Honey blonde locks were in a ballerina topknot with loose tendrils framing her face. Breaths were calculated and even. Hands were clasped and resting on her bare, flat stomach. Bare except for the jewelry in her navel. 

“You alright, Maura?” 

“Mhm, it’s been a while.” She closed her eyes as the needle retraced the outline. 

“It’s both a good thing and a bad thing, _schätzelein._ ” 

“Bad thing?” Her cheek flinched as vibration steadily increased in pressure. Shading was always the best and worst part. It signified that the end was near, but it always stung just a little more than she could handle. Teeth bit into the side of her cheek and her calves tensed. She knew that this would be more sensitive than the others, but nothing would top the one on her rib. 

“You must remember that I’ve seen you at different points in your life. We practically grew up together.” 

“Mhm...” Maura was listening, she just couldn’t detour her focus from the eight-count breathing regiment she had going on. In for eight, out for eight. While she couldn’t look down, she estimated that they were almost done. Just a few more minutes. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that rock on your finger, madam.” Daisy, the artist, paused and raised a pierced eyebrow. Hazel eyes met electric blue and Maura blushed fiercely. Redness trailed to her neck, down her chest, and stopped above her clasped hands resting on her abdomen. The tips of her fingers ran along the aged, healed stretch marks right at the waistband of her jeans. 

“You’d love her, my friend.” Maura smiled softly and winced as Daisy went back to work. 

“If you love her, I already love her.” Daisy flicked her wrist once more and lifted her foot off the pedal. With a final swipe of paper towel, nitrile gloved fingers gooped a thick salve over reddened flesh. Maura sat up with the help of her long-time friend and stood in front of the mirror. 

The skin around black ink was angry. The petroleum jelly made it shine and Maura couldn’t contain the grin that graced a freckled face. It was small and thin. Almost like someone drew it on her skin with a fine tip pen and ruler. The lines were crisp and didn’t fray or bleed. It was exactly what she wanted and exactly how she thought it would look. This may be her favorite yet. 

Maura turned and hugged Daisy tightly, forgetting that she was just in a bra. Daisy laughed and hugged her back. Before she knew it, Saniderm covered black ink and was secured in place with a gentle press. With two hands, Daisy cupped her cheeks and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. 

“I’m so happy for you, _schätzelein._ ” 

“Until we meet again, _liébling._ ” 

* * *

She was on autopilot. Her silk blouse brushed against the plastic bandage plastered against the right side of her upper chest, but it was a sharp reminder of who awaited her the moment she stepped through the threshold of her home. As Maura approached the driveway, she reached for the built-in garage door opener that came standard with her Range Rover. The luxury five seater was a point of contention between her and Jane, but ultimately, she won. They both knew she would, but for Jane, it was the principle. Six figures could’ve been used for something else, but in the end, did it really matter? 

For about six months it did.

The mechanical sounds of a closing garage door went unheard as tiny arms and legs became glued around her thigh. Maura immediately bent down and scooped the light of her life into her arms. Wet kisses peppered her face and she basked in the affection. She nuzzled her nose against damp hair and inhaled. The scents of Johnson & Johnson and coconut oil, now, had a calming effect on her. The organic fragrance was something she solely associated with her daughter. 

Alessandra Constantina Rizzoli. 

A Rizzoli by blood, but an Isles through and through. The stretch marks didn’t just prove that Maura birthed Alessandra, but the mannerisms and her personality screamed Maura. With her daughter in tow, Maura walked towards Jane. Her wife was leaning against the kitchen island with her thumbs shoved into front jean pockets. Brunette curls were in a messy heap on top of her head. A straining black hair tie seconds away from snapping. Hip jutted out and her stance relaxed. At home.

“How was it?” Jane tilted her head softly to the side. 

“Rewarding,” Maura replied. 

“Show me later?” Jane winked. 

“Always.” Maura sidled up next to her and pressed a languid kiss against pliant lips.

* * *

The synchronicity of their bedtime routine with their daughter was a marvel site. Alessandra attempted to brush her own teeth while Jane hummed the teeth brushing song for two minutes. Maura pulled the freshly dry cleaned uniform from the walk-in closet and hung it on the hook by the bathroom. She smiled to herself as she heard Jane take over Alessandra’s teeth brushing and began trying to convince their precocious daughter that rinsing after brushing defeated the purpose of toothpaste. Alessandra giggled, as did her wife, and Maura’s heart melted. That care-free sound filled her chest with love and deepened her affinity for her family. Without them, this happiness would not exist. God, she was so grateful. 

They ran out of the bathroom and dove into the full-sized bed decorated in cherry blossom bedding. Another part of their nighttime routine. Jane wrestled Alessandra until both of them were nestled beneath the duvet. Maura lifted the other side and picked up the well-loved copy of _Oh, the Places You’ll Go._

Like clockwork, by the time she got to _“games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you”_ the smaller curly-haired brunette was out like a light. She and Jane waited the customary six minutes before untangling themselves from the small bed. With double forehead kisses to soft skin, both parents shut the lights off and closed the door with a soft snick. 

Hand in hand, they made their way to their bedroom. It was almost identical to Maura’s old bedroom at her previous Beacon Hill address, but this one was larger. Much larger and much more open with a basket of legos and a box of crayons in the corner by the window. The honey blonde grabbed the curtains from the decorative tiebacks she and Jane picked out together when they acquired their new house. When heavy, thick fabric fell into place, Maura bit her lip as her wife wrapped lithe arms around her waist from behind. 

“So…” Jane nipped at the back of her neck. 

“Yes, my love?” Maura tilted her head to the side and gently closed her eyes. 

“You gonna show me or what?” 

She could feel the cheshire smile against her neck. Roaming hands settled on her waist and slid to the front closure of her jeans. With a practiced flick, the pressure of slim fitting jeans loosened. Her body relaxed immensely and she leaned against the strong body at her back. 

Walking back towards the floor length mirror, Maura met Jane’s eyes in the reflection. Nimble fingers went to the top button of her sleeveless blouse. One down, six to go. 

“What do you think it is?” Three left. 

“Something foreign,” Jane whispered against her ear. 

“Close.” 

“Already?” Jane’s grin was salacious.

Maura bit her lip and smiled. She arched her back slightly to let the blouse fall smoothly down her arms. On anyone else, nude beige would be so plain. On Maura? Her skin was so pale, it complimented the freckles and the lace detail added to the subtle allure. This was how Jane loved her. Neutral, natural, and naked. 

_Phi_ was stark against alabaster skin—even through the plastic covering. 

“It’s so...delicate.” Jane tightened her hold around her midsection as lips swept across an almost bare shoulder. 

“Fitting, no?” Maura shimmied out of her jeans and let them drop unceremoniously onto the hardwood floor beneath bare feet. 

“I used to think so, but after being married to you for over five years? You’re not as fragile as everyone thinks.” Jane hooked her fingers into the sides of her matching, lacy hipsters and pulled them a quarter of the way down.

“No?” Coy was something Maura knew Jane couldn’t resist. She widened her stance to let ruined fabric drop. 

“A good girl doesn’t like to be fucked like you do, baby girl.” Jane smirked as darkened hazel eyes fluttered. 

“You’d think I’d be used to hearing that by now.” Maura watched as olive fingertips trailed up her sides and deftly unclasped her bra with one hand. 

“So...tell me. What does it mean?” 

Maura watched as Jane slid her bra straps down. In the mirror, she could see the visible changes to her body after giving birth to Alessandra. It used to eat away at her self-esteem. She lost the baby weight slower than she wanted and still used cocoa butter on her stretch marks years after her daughter was born. But with every kiss and affirming word, Jane melted her insecurities. While she was still learning to love every new part of herself, at forty-one, Maura was in awe of the life her body was able to carry. Jane helped her see that. 

“ _Le nombre d’or._ ” 

Maura found herself swept away from their reflection and instead became supine against the bed. Jane’s clothing was rough against her skin. The arousal was building and the draft in the room made it chillier than it was when she was clothed. 

“You wanna try that again?” Jane flicked her tongue against a completely jewelry-free nipple. About three-quarters into her pregnancy, the swelling made her nipples too sensitive. She had no choice but to remove the twin piercings, much to her wife’s chagrin. When Alessandra was born, breastfeeding and forming a bond with her daughter was much more important. 

Maura’s eyes closed and her hand balled brunette curls in a fist. The back and forth was reminiscent of the beginning of their relationship when Jane seduced her to comply and disclose what was artfully hidden. However, Maura was not going to prolong the unknown. Jane’s need for her had grown exponentially instead of waning as time progressed. It was only moments before her wife forced it out of her with no wits left to her name. 

“The golden ratio is a geometric logarithmic spiral that has an approximate value of 1.618…” Maura sucked in a breath of air as teeth grazed harshly against a sensitive peak. 

“Maura…” Jane growled. 

Right. Jane terms. Use less than five sentences. Quick because her wife was about to make her forget how to speak. It wasn’t an insult to her intelligence or integrity, but rather an instant explanation and truncated version to expedite the commencement of the raw fucking they’d inevitably get to. She can elaborate later. Much later. 

“The golden spiral is considered to be the divine proportion in nature. It symbolizes balance, growth, release, union. Every turn it makes, the spiral gets wider or further from the origin by the factor of _φ…_ ”

“Two more sentences, baby girl.” 

The kisses down her torso were distracting. She needed to focus, but a forefinger and thumb were rolling a pebbled nipple and she couldn’t stop the bucking of her hips. If she didn’t speak soon, Jane would stop altogether. Maura knew how this worked. 

“I spiraled out into the woman who was able to love and be loved by you and Alessandra. Even though I have you both, I will continue to grow as will my love for you and her.” 

Jane’s body froze. Maura felt the pressure of Jane’s forehead pressing into her stomach. Drops of wetness landed on hyper sensitive skin and the soft sniffle bloomed sunflowers in her heart. Her hands gently tugged at the nape of Jane’s neck to bring them face to face. Tears trailed down a smiling face and she used her thumbs to wipe away the drops as they fell. 

“Dry your eyes, my love,” Maura whispered. “You have to know that everything you’ve done and will continue to do, makes me love you even more every day.” 

“I-I wish that I had something more meaningful to say than I love you.” 

“You don’t even have to say it because I already know.” 

“You do?” Brown eyes were so bright and watery.

For as tall and intimidating Jane was, in this moment, she was so small. So tiny. It nearly broke Maura in half as it always did. This is what she meant by knowing that Jane loved her. Maura saw the vulnerability and felt Jane’s need to be needed and loved. Wholeheartedly, faithfully, and unconditionally. Maura would love her until her last breath. Even if they didn’t last, the love she had for Jane wouldn’t falter. This was it for her. 

“I do.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my wife for making me change their kid's name from Serafina to Alessandra. Word to the wise? Happy wife, happy life. As always, thanks for reading. Until next time, friends.


End file.
